


Take Notes

by TheUnicornFountain



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gaslighting, M/M, NSFW, maybe in the future, references to physical abuse and manipulation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2018-04-12 04:37:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 45,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4465700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUnicornFountain/pseuds/TheUnicornFountain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ganondorf is quite the jerk to a mute bookshop employee, and in trying to make it up he develops more than just friendly feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Movement One

**Author's Note:**

> Just something that was supposed to be a one-shot, but ended up being a little longer and thus needed some chapters or so. 
> 
> Enjoy!

# Take Notes

### Movement One

It was a university town; there was a café or indie shop on every block. Parking was a nightmare on the narrow, “historical” streets. More so for one who had to carry a delivery of books. Three blocks. While navigating around groups of college kids wasting away a Saturday afternoon. 

Ganondorf’s destination was a narrow, two-story shop called “Band Books.” He frowned at the name before shouldering his way through the push door; his muscular brown arms tight around the heavy box against his broad chest. A young woman with long, straight blonde hair was at the counter. Ganondorf lowered the box to the floor and took out the clipboard he had carried atop it. “You know your sign is spelled wrong?” he said as he straightened up.

The woman--her name badge said Zelda--spun around without a word and took up a piece of chalk. She marked a tally on a small, green chalkboard hanging on the wall behind the counter. There were over fifty such marks. 

Ganondorf frowned and asked, “What’s that about?”

“The number of people who have tried to tell me my shop’s name is misspelled,” Zelda explained. “It’s a pun,” she went on with practiced patience in her pressed lips. “We’re well-known for selling books known to be banned for various reasons, and for providing reading copies to the schools around here. We also repair instruments for those same schools. Get it?”

It was obvious she had explained this each of the fifty-plus times. 

Ganondorf ran a hand over the thick red dreadlocks he had tied at the back of his head. “Yeah, I get it,” he almost grumbled. He only just then noticed the sporadic music coming through the ceiling. Was someone working on an instrument on the second floor? “I have some of those back-ordered banned books for you, by the way. You want ‘em anywhere specific, or…”

“Yeah. Wait, hang on. _Link!”_ Zelda called the name towards a set of stairs hidden behind a bookcase to the right of the counter. “Sorry. I didn’t hear you pull up, or I would have had him down here waiting.”

“There was no parking,” Ganondorf explained.

“Oh, there’s a small employee lot in the back. The entrance is off of Castle Street.”

“I’ll remember that for next time.”

Something was shifted around upstairs, and light footsteps crossed the ceiling. Ganondorf leaned against the counter and cast an eye out across the room while he waited. There was a small shelf of recommended books by the employees. He recognized _The Sword in the Stone_ alongside Link’s name, and _A Wrinkle in Time_ by Zelda’s. The others were too obscure for him. He was never a big reader.

Ganondorf turned back around when he sensed someone coming up behind him. Of course he was cute, and Ganondorf felt his cheeks warm at the sight of the lithe, blonde young man. He had blue hoops in his ears, and wore a green shirt with brown slacks and a darker green beanie. 

Zelda smiled brightly when Link looked to her. “Hey! Sorry to pull you away, but could you unlock the store room and show, um…”

“Ganondorf.”

“… _Ganondorf_ where to put the Anne Frank books?”

Link nodded and beckoned Ganondorf down an aisle. 

Ganondorf hefted up the box and followed him. “Hello, by the way,” he said with a hint of annoyance. Link nodded over his shoulder. _Rude,_ Ganondorf thought. His attraction began to wane fast.

The storeroom spanned most of the shop’s width at the back. The walls were lined with shelving, and a metal shelf ran down the middle of the room. Link directed Ganondorf to an empty space on this latter, and the box was deposited with a relieved grunt.

“You’re welcome,” Ganondorf said when Link was almost at the door of the storeroom. 

The young man hunched his shoulders, but turned around and made a strange motion with his hand at his chin. He strode quickly out of the room when Ganondorf only glared. Ganondorf followed him, closing the door a little too hard in his wake. 

“No thanks needed!” Ganondorf continued when he saw Link hurry back upstairs. “It’s not like I carried that load three blocks or anything!” 

“Hey!” Zelda snapped, and she glared at Ganondorf when he focused on her.

“Your employee of the month there can’t even manage a thank you--”

“He’s mute.”

Ganondorf cut himself off, and the blush that came to his cheeks next wasn’t one of attraction. So that was what the motion was about… “I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” he mumbled after too long a silence.

“Obviously,” Zelda said in an acid tone. She pointed to the stairs. “You’re free to go up.”

She wanted him to apologize, but her expression and stance suggested that she didn’t expect it, and neither did Link. Ganondorf wondered if she kept a second, secret tally of all the people who had embarrassed themselves in the shop. Well, he wasn’t like everyone else. For once, he swallowed his pride, nodded, and walked to the stairs. They creaked under his heavy feet. 

A bathroom was at the top of the stairs. Opposite it was a small room furnished with secondhand furniture, a television, and a game console. Between them was another room. It was smaller than the lounge, and lined with instrument cases along the walls. Some of the cases sat open. A euphonium with a bent bell waited its turn; a cello with snapped strings was beside it. At a table barely small enough to fit in the remaining space, Link worked under a lamp to replace the pads on a flute. His brow furrowed when he heard Ganondorf’s steps, but he didn’t look up.

“Hey,” Ganondorf began. “I just want to apologize for being such an asshole.” Link didn’t acknowledge the words, leaving Ganondorf to glance around the room for inspiration. “So, uh, you’re the ‘band’ part of the shop? What can you play?”

“All of them,” Zelda answered. She had snuck up behind Ganondorf. He jumped at the sound of her voice. “Give him an hour with an instrument, and he’ll give you a concerto. It’s what our parents used to say.”

“Oh, brother and sister?” Ganondorf asked with a smile, and Zelda nodded. “What happened to--”

“Car accident.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Hmmm.” Zelda smirked at Ganondorf, although he didn’t know why.

Ganondorf turned away from her and looked to Link. “You have a favorite?” he asked. “Instrument?” he clarified when Link didn’t look up.

“Woodwinds,” Zelda whispered. “But he’s really good at the violin, too.”

“Neat.” Ganondorf looked at a clock that hung on the wall over Link’s desk. “Well, I need to go. Still have a few deliveries.”

“Maybe you’ll make another one sometime soon,” Zelda said. 

Ganondorf shrugged. “Yeah, maybe. Um, sorry again.” He waved at Link, but the young man didn’t look up. Ganondorf left the shop in a hurry, but not without an inkling of curiosity.


	2. Movement Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ganondorf learns some of Link's past, and witnesses some of his talent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for giving this story a shot! Please enjoy the next chapter.

# Take Notes

### Movement Two

After the rough meeting with the admittedly cute bookshop clerk, Ganondorf found himself wanting an excuse to visit Band Books again, and soon. Fortunately he lived only twenty minutes away, but what would he say when he entered the shop? He didn’t exude a scholarly air, and after the debacle of his earlier visit he didn’t even exude a smart one. But he wanted to see Link again. The young man interested him. More than interested him. And he had acted so stupidly…

Ganondorf realized that could be his excuse. A chance to make up for his behavior towards Link. Decided, he visited the shop one evening after work. The parking was better in the evening, and he was able to pull up almost in front of the shop. Walking in, Ganondorf found loud classical music had replaced the cautionary flute from last time; it worked its powerful way down the staircase. The jingle of the door’s bell was lost in it.

No one else was browsing the shelves, but Zelda was working on paperwork at the counter. She looked up when Ganondorf’s tall shadow fell over her work. Her face was one of surprise when she said, “It’s you.”

“It’s me,” Ganondorf said. He nodded towards the stairs. “What’s up with the music?”

“Oh.” Zelda’s lips pressed together. “Beethoven. It’s not a good day.”

“For Beethoven?”

“For Link.”

“Something happen?”

Zelda sighed and rubbed at her forehead. “If you’re here to make another ass of yourself--”

“Relax,” Ganondorf cut in, slightly hurt. “I just thought I’d stop by. Maybe figure out… I don’t know. What I can do to make up for how I acted.”

Zelda broke into gentle laughter. “Really?” she asked around a smile. Ganondorf nodded, and she smiled wider. “Go try to convince him to eat something. He’s been moping all day.”

“Why?” Ganondorf asked. 

“He gets this way sometimes,” Zelda said with a half-shrug. “Someone says or does something to remind him of his handicap, and it brings him down. Here.” She ducked down, and Ganondorf heard the sound of a mini fridge opening and closing. Zelda straightened back up and tossed him a squishy sandwich bundled in plastic wrap. “Tell him I said to eat.”

It was as if he and the siblings had been friends all their lives. Ganondorf took it in stride, nodded, and climbed the stairs. He found Link in the lounge. The sounds of a video game were drowned out by Beethoven. Ganondorf found the radio and turned it down. Link’s eyes whipped to him and narrowed in a glare.

“Hello again,” Ganondorf greeted with more enthusiasm than he felt. “Your sis wants you to eat.” He tossed the sandwich onto the sofa Link was perched upon. It rolled against Link’s hip, and he pushed it aside before returning to his game. 

“Can I sit?” Ganondorf asked. Link didn’t acknowledge the question, but Ganondorf sat down anyway. The sofa had a comfortable, worn-in feeling, but it sunk deep under his sturdier weight. “So, uh… I stopped by to try and apologize again for how I treated you. I have… a temper.” Ganondorf paused. “It’s cost me more than one job. I’ve only been making deliveries for a month, actually, so I appreciate the fact that your sister didn’t call my boss after the other day. I really need this job. It pays well, and I want to save up for an apartment. Right now I’m living in some hole in the wall on the city’s edge. I used to live with a boyfriend, but we fought. He had a temper, too. Why am I telling you all this? You don’t care.” He forced a laugh before falling into a brooding silence. 

Link’s controller clicked beneath his fast fingers as he took on hordes of monsters in a sprawling field. He snatched up the sandwich during a cutscene and took two bites out of it before resuming play. But he wasn’t far into the proceeding boss fight when Zelda’s voice called up the stairs.

_“Link!_ You have a customer!”

Link paused the game at once, took another bite of the sandwich, and got up from the sofa. Ganondorf followed him, and together they came to a mother with her daughter standing by the counter. The daughter was around ten, holding a violin case in her dark hands. Her straight black hair was tied behind her head, and she wore a bright smile. 

“You remember Mrs. Butell and Jolene?” Zelda asked Link. He nodded and smiled at the mother and daughter. Ganondorf withdrew to lean against a book shelf. 

“It needs to be restrung, we think,” Mrs. Butell said. “But Jolene’s teacher is on vacation, and she’s due to perform in the state showcase…”

“I don’t want to mess up,” Jolene picked up, speaking directly to Link. “I’ve only done it one time with Mr. Glemm.” She handed up the violin case to Link.

Link laid the case on the counter and pulled out the violin and bow. He inspected both first; studying them up close and running his fingers along the strings. He frowned and moved his hands at Zelda, who translated, “The E string needs to be replaced.”

Link knew sign language. Ganondorf thought back on the curious motion he had seen in the storeroom last week. Why didn’t he assume as much before? Of course the young man would have learned a way to communicate beyond the glares and hunched shoulders he had so far shown Ganondorf. 

Link ran back upstairs for a replacement string, and Jolene looked on as he removed the old string and restrung the new one. After that came tuning, which Link did by ear. 

“Is it okay now?” Jolene asked after Link was done. 

Link shrugged with an exaggerated look of ignorance, and Jolene laughed. “Play something!” she encouraged.

“Oh, sweetie, Link’s not feeling--” Zelda was cut off by the start of a flurry of notes.

The piece rarely paused its fierce demand of Link’s focus. For almost five minutes, the bookshop was filled with frenetic notes. Jolene looked on with awe, and even Ganondorf was stunned. He watched Link’s upper body turn and shift with the force of his bowing. Sometimes the notes came soft and easy, but more often it was fast and urgent. It was only later that Ganondorf looked up the piece and learned the story behind it, and reflected on how perfectly Link made the music express each part.

Link’s beanie fell off his head near the end, revealing an untidy mop of blonde hair. He replaced it after the song was done, and he blushed at the soft applause he received before falling to retune the violin after the demanding performance.

_“Der Erlkönig,”_ Zelda said, naming the piece when Jolen’s mother asked. “Showoff,” she added to Link, sticking out her tongue. He flashed her a smile from above the violin’s bridge.

“It was wonderful,” Mrs. Butell remarked, and her daughter nodded. “How much do you want for the restringing and tuning?”

“Tuning’s free,” Zelda said. “Just part of the service. And the string’s really not that much. You put my brother back into a good mood, so consider it an even trade.”

Link packed away the violin and walked Jolene and her mother out to their car, leaving Zelda and Ganondorf alone in the bookshop for a few minutes. The air still seemed to ring with the sound of the violin. Ganondorf shuddered and said, “He’s really good.”

“Yeah,” Zelda said. Her eyes were on the door, and her voice sounded distant. 

“He should be playing professionally.”

“Once, he almost did.”

Ganondorf pushed away from the bookcase, walked to the counter, and braced his forearms atop it. “What happened?”

Zelda sighed. “Fair warning: It’s not a happy story.” She dropped her eyes from the door and leaned on the opposite side of the counter. “Two years ago he auditioned for the city’s orchestra--first chair oboe. And he got it. It wasn’t a spectacular career move or anything, but it was getting his name out there, and he loved being a part of the orchestra. 

“But the orchestra’s director was both fond and jealous of him. He basically seduced Link, and to such an extent that Link thought he only got the chair because of the director’s attraction. It really threw his self-confidence for a loop. He began to play worse and worse, and the director was mentally abusing him on top of it--just filling his head with all of this self-blame, and manipulating him…” 

Zelda shook her head and wiped away an angry tear. “I didn’t know about it at all until I happened to see a bruise on Link’s side when he bent over one day. He tried to tell me he had knocked his ribs against a railing, but I knew it was a lie, and I got the truth out of him. I pulled him out of there at once. He was too scared to speak up against the director. The bastard tried to stop me, but I threatened him with court and he backed off.”

Ganondorf dropped his eyes to the counter. “So, when I yelled at him the other day…” He cursed and ran a hand over his face. 

“You want to make it up to him, right?” Zelda asked, and Ganondorf nodded. “Have lunch with me tomorrow.”

“What? Listen, I’m not--” Ganondorf began.

“I know. That’s why I’m asking,” Zelda cut in. She nodded at the door, and Ganondorf turned to watch Link walk back in. 

“Oh,” was all Ganondorf said. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Zelda whispered. “Meet me here at eleven tomorrow.”

Ganondorf nodded, made an excuse to leave to keep up appearances, and walked to his car with a light step. In lieu of the radio, he hummed a bit of _Der Erlkönig_ on the drive home.


	3. Movement Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ganondorf and Link spend a little time together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please enjoy this chapter!

# Take Notes

### Movement Three

Ganondorf arrived at Band Books ten minutes before eleven to find only Link within the shop. He was pushing a book cart down the aisles, stopping every now and then to place a book on the shelf, or take down one that was misplaced. When he heard the bell jingle he looked up, but at once dropped his eyes when he saw Ganondorf.

“Hey,” Ganondorf called down the aisle in greeting. 

Link ducked his head and wheeled the cart into another aisle.

Ganondorf moved with him on the opposite end of the shelves. “Hey,” he called again when he saw the green beanie. “Is Zelda around? She told me to meet her here.”

Link looked down the aisle with something like alarm. He shook his head and mimed coughing into a fist.

“She’s sick?” Ganondorf asked. Link wheeled the cart out of sight, and Ganondorf followed him. The cart’s wheels squeaked when Link picked up his pace. Ganondorf cut him off at the end of the aisle by bracing his arm across it.

“I don’t bite,” he assured. Link eyed the braced arm, and Ganondorf dropped it with a murmured apology. “Do you need help?” he asked next. “Let me help. The authors go in alphabetical order, right? By genre?”

Link huffed, but nodded after a few seconds’ hesitation. 

Ganondorf picked up half a dozen books and set out to place them. While he worked, he talked to Link across the aisles--about his work, his hobbies, favorite movies, and so on. It was the definition of a one-sided conversation. He saw Link often, passing by him in the aisles or returning to pick up more books, but it was hard to interact further with him beyond smiles and nods, which Link never returned.

When the books were put away, Link wheeled the empty cart to the storeroom. Ganondorf drifted back to the counter and looked around. He noticed Zelda had changed a few of her recommended titles. One in particular caught his eye.

When Link came out of the storeroom, Ganondorf raised the book he had found and called across the store, “Can you ring me up?”

Link made his way to the till, and Ganondorf pushed _Let’s Learn Sign Language!_ across the counter alongside a few bills. The cover boasted an instructional DVD inside the book. 

Link’s eyes flicked up from the cover, and Ganondorf smiled at him. A blush bloomed across Link’s cheeks, and he pushed the money back along with the book. The bills slipped over the counter’s edge and fell to the floor. By the time Ganondorf had straightened up with them in his hand, Link had reached the top of the staircase. 

Ganondorf sighed. “It’s like middle school all over again,” he grumbled. The money was shoved back into his pocket, and the book was tucked under his arm. He made sure to drop each foot heavy enough to announce his ascent up the stairs. He wanted to give Link the chance to refuse the visit if necessary. 

But the lounge door was open, and Link was holding a video game controller in hand. He hadn’t yet started a game; instead he stared at the menu on the television. 

“That plays movies, right?” Ganondorf asked. Link looked up at him and nodded after a pause. “Wanna show me the ropes?” He lifted the book for emphasis. “Maybe this way I can apologize properly.”

A longer pause this time, but Link nodded again. Ganondorf took out the DVD and handed it to him, and Link dropped forward on one braced hand to slide the disc in. Ganondorf watched the shirt rise a few inches up Link’s spine, and he swallowed.

“So uh…” Ganondorf watched Link fall back into his seat. “What do you do when you’re not at work or--” He was cut off by the sound of the front door’s bell. Link’s head jerked around, and he dropped the controller into Ganondorf’s hand before getting up to see to the customer downstairs.

The controller was warm from Link’s grip. Ganondorf wrapped his hands around it and got the DVD going. After an introduction, he began the first lesson while stealing glances at the corresponding chapter in the book in his lap. His hands felt clumsy. His fingers were thicker than Link’s, and ten minutes into the lesson he was sure they lacked the grace needed to execute the signs. And how was he supposed to remember everything? It felt a lot more difficult than speaking.

Link returned from the first floor and at once closed the book in Ganondorf’s lap. Before Ganondorf could protest, the controller was picked up and Link restarted the first lesson at half-speed. He signed along with Ganondorf, correcting him when necessary--which was often. They ran through the lesson a second time at normal speed, and a third time with Link pausing the lesson before each sign to give Ganondorf a chance to try without help. By the end of the hour, Ganondorf had memorized the alphabet and a scattering of basic words. 

Link’s timidness fell away the more he interacted with Ganondorf. When his stomach grumbled, he barely blushed when Ganondorf broke into laughter. After getting Ganondorf’s attention, he signed something at his mouth. 

Ganondorf was pleased to find he understood. “Yeah, I’d like to eat, too. Hey, let’s go grab something. You can close the store for an hour, right?”

Link shrugged and avoided Ganondorf’s eager eyes. 

“Come on, it’ll be my treat,” Ganondorf pressed. “Although it’ll have to be cheap, if you don’t mind--” He broke off when Link shook his head, pointed to his chest, and then patted his pocket. It was makeshift signing, but Ganondorf got the idea. “Well, if you insist.”

Before leaving the shop, Link flipped over a CLOSED sign on its front door and locked it. He led the way down two blocks, his eyes focused mostly on the sidewalk the whole while. He looked up when a pizza parlor came into view near a corner. With a beckon at Ganondorf, Link jumped up the steps to the door and swung it open. The smells of garlic, oil, and warm crust met Ganondorf’s nose and lured him inside. Behind a wall of glass, wide pizzas sat atop a counter, and more baked in three brick ovens. Opposite this, to the right, a half-dozen small tables were set against the wall. A line of people took up the middle.

“Link!” called a man behind the counter, and Link raised a hand in greeting. “The usual?”

Link nodded before jerking a thumb at Ganondorf, and the nameless man called next, “What’ll you have?”

“Uh… a slice of pepperoni,” Ganondorf answered. The man nodded and turned away, and Link led Ganondorf to the table in the back corner. Despite the obvious familiarity he had with the parlor, Link looked nervous. Ganondorf kept quiet until a woman brought over their plates.

Link’s “usual” was two slices of mushroom pizza, a small fry, and a drink. Ganondorf looked down at his lonely slice of pizza and called to the waitress for a drink. She returned a minute later with a cup for Ganondorf and a smile for both men.

Ganondorf took a tentative bite of his pizza. He was only used to frozen pizza, so the taste of real pepperoni and sauce was almost too much for him. His lips puckered in joy and he chewed slowly. “This is excellent,” he remarked after he had swallowed his first bite.

Link had loaded up both of his slices with grated parmesan from the shaker on the table. He downed the first slice swiftly and paused to enjoy half his fries before pushing the rest onto Ganondorf’s plate. 

“Thanks,” Ganondorf said. He had indeed been eyeing the fries. “So, you’re a regular here, huh?” Link nodded. “Any other places you frequent? I mean, what do you do when you’re not at work?”

Link shrugged and swallowed his current bite of pizza. When he took a swig of soda, Ganondorf decided to start the conversation. “Me, I like to go for walks. I don’t get enough time to think to myself when I’m at work because I’m always worrying about getting fired for doing something wrong or stupid. But there are two nights a week when I go to the community center for those free courses. You know, cooking and woodworking or whatever they’ve thought up for the time being. I like working with my hands, and I get to learn something new for free, so it’s a win-win, right?” Link shrugged again. “Come on, really?”

Link sighed and wiped the grease from his hands. He had worn a bag out of the shop; on the way to the pizza parlor, Ganondorf had been mesmerized by its floppy kick against Link’s thin hips with each step taken. Now Link drew the bag up into his lap and pulled from its depths a dog-eared spiral notebook and a sleek pen. Flipping past sketches and scribbled words, Link found a blank spot beneath a horse in mid-gallop and wrote his answer.

_I don’t go anywhere. Don’t want to._

“Why not?” Ganondorf asked after he had read the words. “Is it because you can’t talk? Listen, there are plenty of things to do that don’t require carrying a conversation.”

_Doesn’t matter,_ was Link’s answer. 

“Yes it does,” Ganondorf insisted, and Link frowned before looking away. “I know what it’s like to want to avoid everyone, and let me tell you it’s the worst feeling in the world knowing you can go out and have fun, but you have no motivation. At times like those, I wish I had someone at my side to listen to me and then get me up out of my slump. I’m sure your sister has tried that, hasn’t she?” Link’s pursed lips were Ganondorf’s answer. “Well, she was probably a lot nicer than I would have been. If it was me, you wouldn’t have time to mope around in that shop or at home.”

His temper was building, and Link was beginning to cower at the strength in Ganondorf’s voice. Ganondorf paused and took a sip of his sugary soda, sucked in a deep breath, and started over in a calmer state of mind. “Hey, when’s Jolene’s state thing?” 

Link cast his eyes away quickly, and Ganondorf asked, “Is it _today?”_ Reluctantly, Link nodded. “You’re going, aren’t you?”

Link’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. When Ganondorf pressed him as to why not, Link only fiddled with his pen and stared at the table. 

“Jolene would like to see you there, wouldn’t she?” Ganondorf continued. “She really seems to admire you.”

Link snapped his pen between his fingers and dropped quick, untidy words onto the notebook. He pushed it to Ganondorf with a trembling hand and fell to staring at the wall.

_The director of the state showcase is ~~someone~~ ~~a man who~~ an ex of mine._

Ganondorf recalled the conversation he had shared with Zelda yesterday. He would need to be careful not to reveal what he already knew. “An ex? You mean someone was stupid enough to break up with you?”

The humor didn’t work. Link pushed the remaining half of his second slice away and folded his hands in his lap. Ganondorf waited, and Link eventually moved his hands in a short series of signs that was within Ganondorf’s limited vocabulary.

“He hurt you?” he asked, and Link nodded. “You mean your feelings?”

Link shook his head this time and dropped his eyes. 

“Oh.” Ganondorf sighed. “Well, listen… You shouldn’t let him control your life through fear when he isn’t even a part of that life anymore. How ‘bout this--I’ll go with you to the showcase. And if this ex of yours decides to do or say anything you’re not okay with, I’ll give him a taste of his own medicine.”

Link raised his eyes, and Ganondorf watched the blue irises trace the muscles in his arms and chest. After a few seconds, Link nodded. 

“Great!” Ganondorf said with a smile. “Give me the time and place.”

The showcase was at six o’clock in the evening, at the university. Seeing how it was only a five minute walk from Band Books, Ganondorf suggested that they meet there and walk together to avoid a fight over parking. Link agreed, and after their lunch the two men returned to the shop where they parted until later that evening.


	4. Movement Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link and Ganondorf go to see Jolene at the state showcase.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are tags in the fanfiction itself, but I want to reiterate a **trigger warning** for physical abuse and gaslighting.

# Take Notes

### Movement Four

Now that Ganondorf knew of the private lot behind Band Books, it was a simple matter of turning onto Castle Street and driving down the alley off of it. He parked in the rightmost of the four spaces, locked his car--an aged but hardy red sedan from the late 90’s--and leaned against it to wait for Link to arrive. While he waited, he studied the back of the shop. It looked no different from any of the others he could see from the alley. There was a heavy door with the shop’s name painted on it, and a doorbell next to it. The windows were dark.

Distantly, the roar of a motorcycle rose up over the lower traffic noise. It grew louder as it drew closer, then dipped in volume before revving back up again--this time in the alley. Ganondorf whipped his head around towards the lot’s entrance and saw the motorcycle turn in. It came to a stop in the spot beside him. The fenders and tank were green with airbrushed images of running horses, and the rider’s helmet matched.

“Holy shit,” Ganondorf said around laughter when Link pulled off the helmet. “I expected you to pull up in a little Love Bug or something.”

Link rolled his eyes but grinned when Ganondorf stepped forward to inspect the bike. While Ganondorf salivated, Link replaced the helmet with his beanie. He tapped his wrist when Ganondorf looked up, and they left the bike’s attractive curves behind to start their walk to the university.

As they neared the gym, the traffic began to fill the lot around the building. Parents and children got out of their cars; most of the latter carried instrument cases. They broke away from their families inside the gym, heading down a shadowy hall to a practice room. Link and Ganondorf followed the families to the stands. They were early, so they were able to get third-row seats. On the gym floor empty folding chairs and musical stands were arranged in rows, forming a half-circle in front of a podium. Link took out a pen and sketchbook from the bag in his lap and began to fill the blank page with the chairs and stands.

_“Link!”_

The pen stuttered, and Link turned his head around; Ganondorf mimicked him. Before he was fully turned, a pair of arms wrapped around Link’s chest and lifted him clear off the stand. The arms belonged to a man shorter than but as strong as Ganondorf. He had red hair as well, only it was swept up in a tall pompadour.

This was likely Link’s ex. Ganondorf readied himself for a fight, only to notice the man wasn’t wearing formal clothes like a director would. And Link didn’t look afraid at all. In fact, his being plucked up seemed normal, if the amused expression on his face was any indication. 

“Groose, don’t break him!” another man called before walking up. Three women were with him, and they all fell to greeting Link once Groose put him down. 

“Look at you!” one of the women said, and she hugged Link. “You’re looking so much better. You got that weight back.”

Ganondorf quickly learned these were members of the city orchestra Link had once been a part of, and they were old friends he hadn’t seen in some time. They all chided him gently for falling out of touch before they resumed voicing their happiness to see him again. Link replied with smiles and signed words--his friends knew the language--but Ganondorf sensed he would have rather remained anonymous. It became clear they weren’t aware of what had happened between Link and the director. They had assumed an illness was responsible for Link’s decline and eventual departure. The remarks on the past were wearing on Link.

It was Groose who cut the reminiscing short when he asked Link about Ganondorf. Cue an awkward moment when Ganondorf was introducing himself and learning the others’ names while Link struggled to relay who, exactly, Ganondorf was. He settled on the sign for “friend.”

When the young musicians began to file out onto the gym floor--in neat but nervous lines--Link’s friends parted with a few final words and took their seats farther down to the left. Link relaxed with a sigh, put away his barely-started drawing, and turned his attention to the youngsters. Jolene was seated with the other violins. She scanned the audience once she was seated and, finding Link, waved. He waved back, and she moved on to scan the audience for her parents before waving at them next.

The gym filled up quickly after this, and the general chatter of the crowd occupied the space until an announcer stepped up to the podium and called everyone to attention. After thank yous and welcomes were finished, the announcer welcomed the program’s director to the podium.

His name was Ghirahim. Tall and pale with platinum blonde hair in a sharp, asymmetrical cut, he strode to the podium with a high head and confidence in every inch of his thin body.

Link’s hands tightened around the strap of his bag when Ghirahim scanned the audience’s faces. His gaze lingered on Link’s, and the young man sucked in a sharp breath.

Ganondorf acted on impulse. He swung an arm over Link’s trembling shoulders and pulled him close against his side. Link froze but played along, and Ghirahim’s eyes darkened before he dropped his head in a bow to the audience.

“There, see?” Ganondorf murmured, and he dropped his arm. “No problem.”

The showcase went off without a hitch, spanning almost an hour and a half. At the end of the final song, the audience gave the young musicians a standing ovation. Camera flashes went off, and parents cheered a little too loudly. 

Jolene found Link a while later when he and Ganondorf had met back up with the people from the city orchestra. As Ganondorf had thought, Jolene was thrilled to see Link had come to the showcase. She ran up and hugged his waist, and asked if she had done well enough. Link answered with a nod and a smile, and Jolene blushed. It didn’t take much to convince Link to walk with Jolene and her parents to their car.

This left Ganondorf alone with Link’s friends, and he at once wished to disappear. They had seen the arm move before the showcase and, knowing Link’s persuasion, had put one and one together. 

“So you’re his new boyfriend?” Groose was the first to ask. The blunt question promised pain if Ganondorf didn’t answer correctly. Did they know of Link’s history with Ghirahim? No, they couldn’t have. They were merely asking out of general concern.

Ganondorf put up his hands in a plea for calm. “We’re not a couple, exactly. Some guy was giving Link an evil eye, so I thought it would be best to drop a big hint not to give any trouble.”

Groose and the others believed the story, which wasn’t altogether false, and the rest of the conversation was far more relaxed. They talked of various subjects, feeling each other out, while the gym emptied a few feet away. It wasn’t until the crowd had died down to a few stragglers that Ganondorf realized Link had been gone for more than ten minutes.

When he pointed this out, the others looked around for him. He wasn’t in sight, and Ganondorf felt an inkling of fear work up his spine. “I’m going to go look for him,” he announced, and he walked off towards the parking lot.

The lot was nearly empty. Out of the few families still lingering, talking to each other, none of them were Jolene’s. Ganondorf cursed and looked towards the street. Had Link walked back to the shop without saying goodbye? Ganondorf doubted it. He walked up to the closest group of people.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Ganondorf began, and the people paused in their conversation to turn to him. “I’m looking for someone. Short, kind of pale. He was wearing a green beanie. Have you seen him?”

The adults shook their heads, but a young boy with a trombone case in-hand pointed towards the dark alley between the gym and one of the science buildings. “I saw someone like that walking around there a little bit ago. He was with the director.”

Ganondorf’s stomach sank. “Thanks, kid,” he said with a forced smile, and he hurried across the lawn towards the buildings. There was no one in the shadowy space, but a back door to the gym stood open. Ganondorf entered the building once more. It was quieter now, and he was able to pick up an echoing sound coming from down a hall to his right. Only the emergency lighting was on here, creating thick patches of shadows in doorways and corners. 

The echoing sound came again. It was words, but the distance jumbled them. One thing Ganondorf knew for sure was that Link wasn’t the person making the noise. On quiet feet, he followed the sound through two halls, listening as it gradually grew clearer.

“…likes you, don’t you get that? Don’t you remember how it was before you met me? You really think he…”

Ganondorf paused at a corner. Just beyond it, he was sure Ghirahim and Link were talking. He chanced a quick glance that turned into a longer look when he saw Ghirahim’s back was to him. Link was against the wall with the man’s hand braced beside his head. A knee was pressed between Link’s legs, and Ghirahim was leaned in close against him. 

“You’ve forgotten all I’ve done for you,” Ghirahim continued. “Do you know how many people laughed at you behind your back? I was the one who told them off when they mocked you, remember? I was the one who helped you get that chair, and you thank me by spouting all these lies to your sister? When did I ever hit or insult you? I wasn’t like _them._ I loved you, but you refused to see that. No, instead you blamed your clumsiness and ineptitude on me.”

Link refused to acknowledge Ghirahim’s words, or even look at him. This only fueled the man’s ire, and a fist found Link’s nose. “Look at me when I’m talking to you!” Ghirahim snapped. He caught Link’s head in his hand and raised it back up. “I deserve that much respect after all I did for you.”

Ganondorf regretted not moving in right away, but now he put subtlety aside and stormed out of the shadows. Ghirahim turned at the sound of heavy footsteps, and Ganondorf drove a fist into his cheek. Ghirahim staggered away, and Link dropped to the floor. Ganondorf caught him and lowered him gently. He was reeling from the punch, and a curtain of blood was flowing out of his nose. With a growl, Ganondorf stood up and made for Ghirahim… but the man was gone. 

Link was close to passing out. A bruise on his temple revealed the punch wasn’t the only blow to have landed on him during his encounter with Ghirahim. Ganondorf collected the green beanie from where it lay on the floor, and he hoisted Link up to his feet. Link staggered with the first step, forcing Ganondorf to pick him up and carry him like a child.

Outside the gym’s back door, Groose was just arriving. His eyes widened when he saw who Ganondorf was carrying. “What happened?”

“He got mugged,” Ganondorf answered on the fly. 

“In the gym?”

“Look, he’s okay, all right? I’m going to get him back to the bookshop. Tell his friends for me, will you?”

“Y-Yeah. Of course,” Groose answered. He split away, looking strained. Ganondorf went in the opposite direction with Link unconscious in his arms. There was little traffic and no one on the sidewalk, but all through the walk he was all too aware of the stark contrast between his and Link’s skin color. He prayed a cop didn’t pull up and demand to know what he was doing.

But the streets remained quiet, and in the alley Ganondorf felt safer. Breathing hard, he walked up to the back door of the shop, which was now lit by a flood light. Link stirred under the harsh light and opened his eyes. He tensed at first, but relaxed when he recognized both Ganondorf and the shop.

“Think you can stand?” Ganondorf huffed. Link nodded, and Ganondorf lowered him onto his feet. He wavered, but steadied. A gesture of his hand directed Ganondorf to the keys in one of the motorcycle’s saddlebags. They opened the shop’s back door, and Link made his slow way inside with Ganondorf on his heels.

“First aid?” Ganondorf asked. Link pointed up, so Ganondorf shadowed him to the bathroom on the second floor. Once there, Ganondorf said, “Sit down, okay? I’ll take care of it.”

Even under the blood, Link’s face made it clear he wasn’t fond of the idea of being babied. But he was too used to being ordered around to object--something Ganondorf noticed with a stab in the heart. He sat down on the closed toilet and tilted his head up towards the damp washrag in Ganondorf’s hand. Fortunately the nose wasn’t broken, and the bruise on the temple was only that. Link popped two aspirin once he was cleaned up, and he retreated to the lounge where he lay down on the sofa. A tear streaked down his cheek when he covered his eyes with a shaking hand.

Ganondorf took a seat on the armrest by Link’s feet. “That guy was an asshole, and that’s putting it mildly,” he remarked. “I wish I could have punched him a few more times to get the message across. Anyway…” Ganondorf looked down and noticed Link’s trembling jaw. “You want me to go?”

Link shook his head.

“All right,” Ganondorf said. “I don’t have any plans tonight or tomorrow. I’ll stay as long as you need me to--all night, even.”

In the lounge room’s closet, Ganondorf found a few dusty blankets. He shook them out and laid one of them over Link, who curled up beneath it with his nose pressed lightly against the back of the sofa. Another blanket made the floor a little softer for Ganondorf, and he laid down atop it where he kept one ear and eye open for trouble until sleep took him.


	5. Movement Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelda discovers the aftermath of the previous night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Please enjoy.

# Take Notes

### Movement Five

Something tickled Ganondorf’s cheek, bringing him out of sleep to find Link’s hand hovering over his face. He had turned over sometime during the night, and his arm stuck out above Ganondorf’s head. The lax fingers twitched against his skin until he sat up.

The skin around Link’s nose and under his eyes was swollen with dark bruising. It looked painful, but he was sleeping well enough. Ganondorf rubbed the crust from his eyes and yawned. Link looked so peaceful asleep. 

A jingle cut the quiet morning. Ganondorf recognized it as a classical tune. It was coming from under Link’s blanket. Ganondorf stood up, gently tugged the blanket down, and pulled out the anxious phone from Link’s pocket. The screen said ‘Princess.’ He slid his thumb across it and put it to his ear. “Hello?”

There was a significant pause on the other end of the line. Ganondorf realized a second too late that Link would never say hello, and he rushed out, “It’s Ganondorf, sorry.”

“Oh,” laughed Zelda’s voice. “You freaked me out for a second there. Is this your car out here then?”

“You’re outside?” Ganondorf asked.

“And you’re inside,” Zelda pointed out with noted delight.

“Um… It’s not what you--I mean, we didn’t… Listen.” Ganondorf paused, sighed, and waited for Zelda to stop laughing. “Something happened last night, and I had to stay over.”

The laughter died off. “Let me in, would you?” Zelda said. Her voice was strained now. “I forgot my key at home.”

Ganondorf ended the call and slipped the phone back into Link’s pocket, who woke up at the touch and frowned. “Your sister’s here,” he explained. “I’m going to let her in.”

Link paled behind his bruising and rushed to his feet. Ganondorf backed out of his way and walked downstairs to the backdoor. The deadbolt was drawn back, and he opened the door for Zelda. She walked in, flashed Ganondorf a small smile, and headed down the aisles calling, “Link!”

There was nowhere for him to hide, but Link took his time descending the stairs. His bed hair was hidden under his beanie save for his bangs. They weren’t enough to hide his marred face. Zelda gasped when she saw the bruises. “Oh my… He didn’t even bother to hide it this time.”

Link dropped his chin, but Zelda caught it and lifted his face back into the light. Her lips were soft when she kissed his forehead. Her voice was harder when she announced, “I’m taking pictures.”

Link jerked his head free and shook it in denial. He looked terrified at the idea. 

Zelda, however, was firm. “If we’re going to stop him, we need to press charges. And for that we need evidence. Dr. Malon has already agreed to testify on your behalf when we--Link!” Zelda threw her hands up in defeat when Link spun around and rushed back upstairs. “Unbelievable! How many times, Link? _How many times are you going to let him win?”_ She shouted this directly up the stairs.

Ganondorf stepped forward. “Who’s Dr. Malon?” he asked, hoping to steer Zelda away from her anger.

Zelda leaned against the counter. “Link’s psychiatrist. He’s been seeing her twice a month ever since…” She waved a dismissive hand. “We’ve been trying to convince Link to press charges, but he keeps refusing.”

“He’s scared,” Ganondorf said, and Zelda nodded. “It’s understandable. He’s probably afraid of retribution, and what people will think of him for revealing the ugly side of Ghirahim.”

Zelda smiled a little. “See, you get it. I knew you would.”

“I have experience in matters like this,” Ganondorf revealed. “Not as severe but… Yeah, I’ve lost friends. Most of them didn’t believe me because I didn’t have a great sister like you to collect evidence.”

Zelda chuckled. “Now you’re just buttering me up.”

“A little,” Ganondorf admitted. He pulled out his phone from his pocket. “This thing takes decent pictures. I’ll go talk to him and try to convince him to at least do this much.”

Zelda nodded. “I appreciate that. And hey, let’s exchange numbers in case something like this happens again.”

“That implies Link and I will be going somewhere together again,” Ganondorf pointed out.

“Then I guess it implies I’m going to take more sick days in the future,” Zelda added with a wink, and she laughed when the realization came to Ganondorf’s face. The humor died fast. “But let’s hope they don’t all end like this one did.”

“I’ll protect him better next time,” Ganondorf vowed. He swapped numbers with Zelda, half-expecting she would give him Link’s as well. She didn’t; it was something he had to earn the old-fashioned way.

Link was holed up in the bathroom. Ganondorf knew it didn’t lock, but he was respectful enough not to open the door. Instead, he knocked a few times and called, “Link, may I come in? Your sister wants me to take some pictures.”

Honesty was best, but not the most effective this time. The door didn’t budge. Ganondorf sighed and rested his forehead against it. “Listen, Link… I’ve been where you are. That ex I told you about the other day? He was abusive. You look at me and think no one could take me in a fight, but I was too afraid to fight back when he started hitting me. I started to lie to my friends, and when it all broke they believed my ex as a result. I had nothing to back up my claims because he never left marks where people could see them. I had to reach out to a help group who gave me the courage and means to get away.

“You’re not like me,” Ganondorf continued. “You’re in a worse situation, and you have friends you don’t want to hurt with the truth. But you also have a sister who cares for you, and a doctor who wants to help you. I didn’t have any of that, but I still managed to better myself and get away. You can be just as brave. So what do you say? Just open the door and we can start from there. I’ll wait. But if you want me to go away, I’ll do that too. Just knock on the door if that’s the case.”

Ganondorf waited, and while he did he listened hard for any sounds from the other side of the door. It wasn’t until almost five minutes later did the door move under his forehead. He straightened up to find a crack between it and the frame. He pushed cautiously on the door, thinking it was a mistake, before opening it slowly to no resistance. Link had retreated to sit on the toilet lid. He stared at Ganondorf from across the small room.

Ganondorf raised the phone in his hand for a brief moment. “Whenever you’re ready. Or we could talk--sign, I mean. Do… Do you still call it talking?”

The barest smile flickered across Link’s lips before he dropped his eyes to his knees. A gesture of his hand encouraged Ganondorf, who walked to the toilet and went into the camera application on his phone. 

“Lift your head?” Ganondorf said. Link sniffled and did as asked. The phone flashed once in front of him, and again on either side of his profile. For the fourth picture, the beanie was removed so that Ganondorf could capture the bruise on Link’s temple. A picture of Link’s blood-spotted shirt was also taken for good measure.

Ganondorf pocketed his phone with a mental note to text Zelda the pictures later. “You did good,” he said to Link. The remark sounded pathetic, but Ganondorf didn’t know what else to say.

Link covered his bruised face with his hands and cried.


	6. Movement Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ganondorf is invited to Zelda's dinner party where he finds Link in a bad mood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my world, everyone texts with perfect grammar and spelling xD
> 
> This chapter is the longest so far, I think, because I didn't want to split it in half. Please enjoy!

# Take Notes

### Movement Six

Zelda was fond of texting. She sent Ganondorf pictures of her meals. She told him of odd customers at the bookshop. She caught him up on all of Link’s successes and minute failures, such as the morning he stubbed his toe on a bookshelf. It was twenty texts a day at least for the first three days until Ganondorf was forced to text back, kindly but with a hint of irritation, that he was on a pay-as-you-go plan, and Zelda’s texts were eating into his carefully structured budget. 

**You need a better-paying job,** was what she sent back, but she understood. The texts dropped to less than half a dozen a day.

One text brought an invitation a little more than two weeks after Jolene’s showcase. **Do you want to come to my dinner party tomorrow night?** Zelda sent. A follow-up text added, **I never thanked you for helping Link, and free food is always appreciated right?**

It was certainly something Ganondorf appreciated, but the words ‘dinner party’ put a bit of unease in him. Did that mean formal wear? He had none. He accepted nonetheless, and the address that followed his affirmation further put him off when he typed it into his phone’s map application. Surely it was a mistake…

But when he followed the directions to Zelda’s house the next evening, the line of cars along the driveway confirmed he was at the right place. It was a long driveway, fitting for the mansion that sat at its end. There was no other word to describe the place. It was lit up with golden light from inside, and piano music and conversation poured out of the tall double doors. Men and women in glamorous clothes milled on the wide lawn or walked in and out of the house. Ganondorf joined the ones going inside, feeling very out of place in his black jeans and untucked dress shirt. 

Fortunately, Zelda found Ganondorf easily enough given his height. She excused her way past a small group of people and met him with a smile and a laugh at his apparent unease. “It’s okay,” she assured him when he mentioned he didn’t know there was a dress code; she was in a slim, purple gown. “This is just a thing I throw for donors twice a year or so.”

“Donors?” Ganondorf repeated.

“For the city hospital,” Zelda specified.

“Zelda, who _are_ you?” Ganondorf asked.

“Miss Hyrule!” someone called, invitingly, across the foyer. 

Zelda turned at the shout and raised a hand. “Be right there!” she called back. “Listen…” She turned back to Ganondorf. “Link’s not happy with me, so I’d appreciate it if you could put him into a good mood. I’ll find you later, okay?” 

She walked off with an apologetic smile, leaving Ganondorf to stand in the wake of his shock. _Hyrule._ As in the most influential and richest family in the city--or rather, siblings now. Ganondorf recalled the story in the papers years ago. So the orphaned children that had made the front page for a week straight had been Link and Zelda. What the hell were they doing running a bookshop when they had all the city at their feet?

More people were moving into the foyer. Ganondorf made his way to the edge of the crowd and found himself in a large dining room where several tables of food were laid out. Everyone else was plucking up platefuls, so he joined them. With food in his gut--amazing, delicious food--he felt more at ease. He loaded up a second plate and carried it with him, picking at it here and there, while he studied the house. While not a specialty of his, architecture had always interested him. He could tell the Hyrule mansion was newer than most of the houses in the historical district, but someone had gone through great pains to not make it look that way. The false antiquity had a bit of charm.

The piano music followed Ganondorf almost everywhere. At first he thought it was coming from hidden speakers, but it was never constant, giving him the impression it was coming from one place. He could have smacked himself in the head for this realization when it came to him. Who else would be playing the piano but Link?

A turn into a room near the front of the house proved Ganondorf’s guess true. Link, his face now clear of bruising, picked away at a grand piano in a corner of the room while people passed by him or talked on, seemingly oblivious. He didn’t look happy, which struck Ganondorf as odd when he recalled Link’s passion for music. He worked his way across the room and placed his mostly-full plate of food on the bench beside Link. “Hungry?”

Link looked down at the plate without breaking stride; he was playing something lively from memory. He looked up at Ganondorf next as if expecting to see him there, nodded in thanks, but continued playing.

“Come on,” Ganondorf said over the piano’s notes. “Your sister says you’re mad at her. Is it because she’s treating you like elevator music? All these people--they’re not your thing, I bet.” Link’s rolled eyes were confirmation of that fact. “So take a break. They’re barely listening.”

Link continued playing for another few minutes before ending the song. Finally he stilled his fingers long enough to pick up the plate and gobble down a triangle sandwich in two bites. But he was in no better a mood, and his eyes darkened when Zelda found her way to the piano.

“Hey, Link,” she said with forced cheer. Link spared her a glare. “Frederick’s wondering if you could play _Moon River?_ He and his wife danced to it at their-- _Link!”_ Link had snapped down the piano’s fallboard and stood up from the bench. He left the plate behind when he left the room in a huff.

“You know, he’s not a record player,” Ganondorf pointed out.

“That’s not the problem,” Zelda said with a glare at Link’s vanishing back. “Not wholly, anyway.” She sighed and took a seat on the vacated bench. “Every year he goes to every performance of the jazz fest in the neighboring city, and tonight is the last one.”

“He can’t handle skipping one performance to be here?” Ganondorf asked. It struck him as a little unreasonable given the party’s intention to pamper donors into emptying their pockets.

“It’s a special one tonight,” Zelda explained. “His favorite jazz group is in town this year and is doing this one performance before continuing their tour on the other side of the country. A sort of last hurrah for the jazz fest, you know?”

“I know,” Ganondorf said with a nod. He had remembered another newspaper article just now--a much more recent one. “The White Ties? I went to school with the saxophonist. We were good friends until his career sent him all over the world.”

Zelda groaned and hid her face in her hands. “Please don’t tell Link that. He’ll hate me even more. Listen, just… Just put him in a good mood for me, please? I can’t have him putting off our guests. The hospital depends on these people.”

“Sure,” Ganondorf agreed. Zelda gained her feet and thanked him with a relieved smile. She at once reestablished herself within the crowd and fell into the role of the generous host. Ganondorf split off, following Link’s trail. He found a wide staircase at the end and walked up it. 

Things were much quieter on the upper floors. There were many rooms and halls, but Ganondorf had a feeling he would find Link behind a closed door, and he set out in search of some. He was on the third floor before he came across a door with faint music leaking out from behind it. Ganondorf recognized a tune by The White Ties. He knocked a few times before trying the knob. It turned under his hand, and he eased his way in.

The room was large with a queen-sized bed, a television and game systems, a bookshelf, and a wide desk, along with a bureau and other, more personal effects. Posters covered the walls, ranging from video games to movies to instruments. A half-open door led to a private bathroom, and a cat was curled up at the end of the bed. It was a tuxedo cat, and it arched up with a friendly _mwoar_ when Ganondorf entered the room.

Link raised his head from where it had been resting on his arms atop the desk. He had pulled off his dinner coat and bowtie, and a button was undone, revealing a few inches of neck. He regarded Ganondorf in some irritation.

“Your sister wanted me to put you in a good mood,” Ganondorf said at once, thinking honesty was best. “Um… I like your cat. Does it have a name?”

Ganondorf had been practicing sign language everyday and he had a fair handle on nearly all of it now, which he assured Link. Even so, he double-checked Link’s signing when the name came out as ‘Gengle.’ It was correct.

“That’s unique,” Ganondorf said with a chuckle. He gave Gengle a much-wanted scratch around the ears. “So, um… Zelda told me about The White Ties. You know, their performance tonight?” 

Link’s hands clenched atop his knees, and he scowled at empty air. 

“I like their music too,” Ganondorf revealed. He nodded at the radio on Link’s bureau. “That’s their second album, isn’t it?” Link raised his head in surprise and nodded. “And this one has Danny’s best sax solo. We went to school together, you know. We were good friends. Where are they playing tonight?”

Link’s hands moved in lackluster signs. _The Number Three Club. Eight o’clock._

Ganondorf gave Gengle a final pat, walked over to the radio, and flicked it off. “That’s in an hour. Plenty of time to get over there.” Link stared at him, and he went on, “Your sister said to put you in a good mood. The only thing that will do that is getting you to that performance. Come on, I can get us in no problem.” _I hope,_ Ganondorf added to himself. He hadn’t spoken with Danny in a year, and it had been longer since he had actually seen him.

It didn’t appear Link believed Ganondorf until the man urged him to get off his ass and get moving before Zelda came looking for them. After that, Link eagerly led the way along the hall and down a rear staircase away from the eyes of the guests. A door off of a gleaming kitchen led to a large garage. Link’s motorcycle was parked amongst three other high-end vehicles, but he told Ganondorf to lead the way to his car. Their departure would be less conspicuous that way. Under the cover of the growing dark, they left the garage and followed the driveway to where Ganondorf was parked. 

Half an hour later, they were walking past a roped-off line to a bouncer situated in front of The Number Three Club’s front door. A digital sign announced the night’s performance was sold out. Link eyed it with growing dismay on the way to the door. 

The bouncer wasn’t as tall as Ganondorf--few people were--but he was wider in the shoulders. He stiffened them in challenge when he saw Ganondorf bypassing everyone. “End of the line’s that way, friend,” he said when Ganondorf drew near, and he pointed in the opposite direction.

“Funny you should say ‘friend,’” Ganondorf began. With enough motivation he could exude great confidence even when he was at his most nervous, and Link provided motivation enough. “I happen to be a friend of Danny Elders.”

“Is that so?” the bouncer said with a scoff. “You want to know how many _friends_ of The White Ties have tried to cut this line in the past hour?”

“If you don’t believe me, just get Danny,” Ganondorf pressed. “Or send one of your busboys to do it. Come on, it’ll take two minutes to prove me wrong if you’re that keen on it.”

The bouncer laughed. “Oh I’m keen.” He opened the door and ducked his head inside to yell something. Snatches of practice music petered out before the door closed again. Link shifted restlessly beside Ganondorf, who didn’t have the heart to look him in the eyes. What is he _was_ proven wrong? How would he face Link then?

The minutes dragged. People glared or smirked at Ganondorf and Link. The bouncer fell into a conversation with the people at the front of the line until the door opened behind him. A man with black dreadlocks longer than Ganondorf’s red ones stepped out. The crowd leaned against the rope, and a few called out or cheered.

The dreadlocked man looked Ganondorf up and down from behind a pair of shades only a little darker than his skin. He was dressed in a tuxedo not much different from the one Link still wore pieces of, accented with a white tie. 

Ganondorf jumped a little and smiled. “Hey, Danny!” He added a silent prayer.

The man’s face split wide in a smile. “Gan the man!” He offered a hand, and Ganondorf slapped his palm into it. Their brotherly hug wiped the last of the smirks from the onlookers’ faces, and put delight back into Link’s eyes.

Danny led Ganondorf and Link into the dim club, which had been built in an old warehouse. A wall divided the building into two sections. One half served as a lively nightclub while the other half was installed with tables and a small stage. It was here that the four members of The White Ties reacquainted themselves with Ganondorf and met Link, whom Ganondorf described as an avid fan.

“You got a favorite number?” Danny asked Link directly. 

Link blushed and began to fumble with his hands, and the bassist proclaimed, “Shit, Danny, he signs just like my little cousin. What was it? An accident?”

Link shook his head and signed with a little more confidence, and the bassist nodded. “It was a car accident with my cousin. Head injury knocked his speech right out of him, and he had to learn everything from scratch in ASL. So what’s your favorite number?”

Link signed the title, and The White Ties promised to perform it first. “Gan,” Danny added, and he jerked his head at the kitchen doors on the other side of the room. “Anything you want, put it on our tab. I’ll clear it with Louis. And take your seat anywhere. They always keep a few seats aside for special guests.”

“Thanks, man,” Ganondorf returned. He let Link pick the table; one in the front row. Link cautiously asked to order dinner when the line of people started to filter in, so Ganondorf called over a waiter and interpreted Link’s selection after he had glanced over the menu. The food arrived just as the first number began, and Link’s eyes barely left the stage, leaving him to blindly fork shrimp into his mouth.

The performance concluded close to ten o’clock, and the room emptied over the next quarter-hour with some of the people moving over to the nightclub half and others leaving entirely. Once the crowd was gone Link walked up to the stage and signed energetic praise, to the band’s delight. Ganondorf joined him after finishing off his soda. 

“Was our pleasure,” Danny returned once his bassist had interpreted Link’s remarks. “Any friend of Gan’s is a friend of ours. We went to school together, you know? He was in football, and I was in the band.”

“I sat on the bench,” Ganondorf corrected when Link looked to him, and The White Ties laughed. “My temper kept me off the field more often than not. The coach was a dickhead. The band was always in the stands behind us, so Danny and I got to be pretty good friends--even though I couldn’t tell which end of a flute was which.”

“And I still don’t know the difference between a quarterback and defense,” Danny added with a smile. “What about you?” he asked with a nod at Link. “Jock or band geek?”

Link pointed at the instrument cases tucked out of sight on the sides of the stages, to The White Ties’ overwhelming approval. 

“He can play pretty much anything extremely well,” Ganondorf added. Link blushed but didn’t deny the claim.

“Get out,” Danny said. “Get up here then. Show us. We got some time--we can jam a little before they kick us out of here.”

Link didn’t believe him at first until all of the band members began encouraging him. When he realized they were sincere, he hopped up onto the stage with a bit of an excited tremble in his shoulders. His fingers were steady on the instruments, however, and Ganondorf retreated to a table to spectate. 

His silenced phone vibrated against his thigh halfway through the jam session, and he realized with a sinking gut that it had been vying for his attention for a while now; he had subconsciously ignored it. A slew of texts greeted him when he unlocked the phone. The gist of them demanded to know where Link was, but Ganondorf could tell Zelda already knew. He took a picture of The White Ties jamming with Link, and sent it to her in answer. Her reply wasn’t immediate, and Ganondorf waited for the next tirade in text form. But only one word came back. 

**Thanks.**


	7. Movement Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link takes Ganondorf on a little trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops this chapter went longer than usual. I don't think I'll have any complainers, though. 
> 
> Still perfect grammar in texting because it's only a fanfiction.
> 
> Please enjoy, thanks!

# Take Notes

### Movement Seven

Some of the cars were gone from the driveway, which allowed Ganondorf to park a little closer to the Hyrule mansion. Once the engine was quiet and the dashboard lights were dark, he waited for Link to make the first move. The jam session had tacked on exhaustion atop the tiredness Link’s earlier stress had put into him. He now sat with his head resting against his raised arm.

“Zelda knows where you’ve been,” Ganondorf said when Link didn’t move. “She’s okay with it, but she might act stern to put on a show in front of those people.”

Link lifted his head and shook it, and a hand waved off the concern. The crack of his spine was audible when he stretched in his seat. 

“If you want, I can distract her while you sneak in,” Ganondorf offered.

Link shook his head again, this time with a half-smile. He unhooked his seat belt.

“Say, uh…” Ganondorf cleared his throat when Link looked to him. “If you ever need to get out again from under your sister, I’m usually available if you give me a few hours’ notice. Here, do you want my number?” He pulled his phone out of his pocket in expectation.

It was as if Link was waiting for the question. He reached across and nimbly plucked Ganondorf’s phone out of his hand. Ganondorf leaned in to watch Link enter his contact information before copying Ganondorf’s number into his own phone. He returned the phone with a smile and left the car before Ganondorf could think of anything to say.

#

The contact name was simply ‘Link.’ Ganondorf put the jam session picture as the contact image, but otherwise left the number untouched for a day. Part of him was convinced Link had put in a false number, and that the dinner party would be his last interaction with the Hyrules. The next time he went to the bookshop it would be boarded up and closed, and the mansion would be abandoned.

They were ridiculous thoughts, but Ganondorf couldn’t help to think them. Perhaps it was just conditioning from his last relationship. Regardless, he put off trying the number until he was lying in bed the next night. Only then did he scroll through his small contact list to the only name under ‘L.’ Habit had him almost pressing the call icon before he remembered; he hit the message icon instead.

 **Hey,** he began. He didn’t know what else to say, but he didn’t want to waste a text message on just one word. **It’s Ganondorf,** he added in next. _Obviously,_ he thought to himself, and he hurriedly typed, **Just checking to make sure you didn’t give me the number for take-out.**

He sent the message and waited. Five minutes passed without an answer, and Ganondorf was about to put his phone down and try to sleep when it vibrated in his hand.

**Hey.**

It was only one word, but it struck an odd chord in Ganondorf’s chest, and he felt his heart flutter a little. Seeing the word typed out was different than seeing it signed. The translation was instantaneous; it didn’t have to go through the newly memorized channels in Ganondorf’s head before it could be understood. The downside was that he couldn’t see Link’s expressions and body language. Typed words said only so much. But he would take them gladly until he could next see Link.

 **I hope Zelda didn’t beat you up too much last night,** Ganondorf sent next.

Link’s answer was quicker. **She’s happy. Lots of money for the hospital.**

 **Were your parents doctors something?** Ganondorf asked. As soon as he sent it, he hastily sent a second one that added, **Sorry if that’s personal.**

 **Our mother was a surgeon at the hospital,** Link explained with no hint of offense. **Our father was her college sweetheart. They both came from rich families. What about you?**

Ganondorf settled against his pillow. **My parents were immigrants from the Middle East. My father died when I was very young not long after they immigrated, so my mother moved in with her sister who was already here, and they raised me. They live an hour away.**

 _That was tactless,_ Ganondorf realized after he sent the message. He rushed an apology, saying, **Sorry about your parents.**

 **They’re dead,** Link texted back. **I grieved. It’s okay.** Another text message came on its heels. **I’m going to bed. Don’t want to eat up your data. Come by the bookshop sometime again.**

 **Definitely,** Ganondorf answered. **Goodnight.**

 **Night,** was Link’s last message. Long after it had arrived, Ganondorf was still scrolling through their short conversation.

#

Ganondorf’s delivery route took him within ten minutes of the bookshop twice a week. He made a habit of taking his lunch early those days in order to stop in and work on cementing his skills in sign language with Link. Sometimes the shop was busy, however, and those days Ganondorf would volunteer his help in organizing or stocking. 

“Why don’t you just work here?” Zelda asked one day. Her tone suggested she wasn’t altogether joking.

Ganondorf laughed nonetheless. “You gonna pay me enough to cover my bills?” he asked in return.

“Did you see my mansion?” Zelda retorted.

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask--what the hell are you doing running a bookshop?” 

“Hey I’ve got to do something with my life, and this gives a sense of accomplishment. So what do you say?”

Ganondorf paused with a book half-raised towards its shelf. “You’re serious?” he asked. Zelda shrugged, and he thought on it before answering, “How ‘bout part-time? Maybe that way I can save up enough to get out of the place I’m living in now.”

“Deal,” Zelda at once agreed. “Hey, Link!” Link’s head lifted from the computer he was working on at the counter. “Ganondorf’s our new part-time help. Set him up in payroll and with a schedule, would you?”

“Um, maybe later,” Ganondorf said before Link could start; he had just noticed the time. “My hour’s almost up. Can I stop by after work?” Zelda nodded, and Ganondorf left with a word of thanks. But it wasn’t until evening fell that he returned, and as he pulled into the alley that ran behind the shop he was sure he would find the parking lot empty.

But Link’s motorcycle was still there despite the fact that it was past closing. Ganondorf parked a space over from it, walked to the backdoor, and rang the doorbell. Looking up, he could see a light was on behind a second floor window. Seconds later, the door opened. Ganondorf stepped out of its swing with a sheepish smile. “Hey, sorry I’m late…” He walked in behind Link. “One of our drivers got involved in an accident, and it was a couple hours before they realized he wasn’t going to make his deliveries. I was on my way out the door when they pulled me to go pick up the stuff and deliver it instead.”

Link listened while he and Ganondorf walked down the dimly-lit aisles. He waved a hand in dismissal of the late arrival before signing a request for Ganondorf to come upstairs. 

_I need your help with something,_ Link explained when Ganondorf asked why. He beckoned up the stairs, and Ganondorf followed him to the music room. If possible, there were more instruments lined along the walls of the room than before. A shiny marching tuba sat in its open case on the floor. Link asked Ganondorf to lift it and hold it steady. 

_It was sliding around when I tried bracing it,_ Link explained after Ganondorf had picked up the instrument. _There’s something stuck inside it._

“What is--” Ganondorf cut off when Link stuck his arm inside the wide bell. It vanished almost up to the shoulder. His face scrunched in effort, and he tugged, but whatever it was didn’t come out. He withdrew his arm with a huff of annoyance before retreating to the work desk for something. 

“This feels inappropriate,” Ganondorf joked when he saw Link lubing up his hand with a bottle of valve oil. Link smirked and brought the small bottle back with him. It went into the tuba along with his hand, and Ganondorf planted his feet when the tuba moved at his side. 

With a scrape the object was dislodged, and Link pulled it out along with the valve oil bottle. It was the bell part of a clarinet. His eyes brightened at the sight of it, and he tucked it under his armpit before signing, _They said they were missing a clarinet piece._

“High school band?” Ganondorf guessed, and Link nodded in amusement. He wiped his hand clean with a towel, followed by the inside of the tuba. The clarinet bell was tucked into the tuba case for the moment after it, too, was cleaned.

Ganondorf turned the tuba up. “So how do you play one of these things? The bands I saw only ever had those ones that wrap around you.”

Link went to the case again--this time into a small compartment held closed by a button. He pulled out a silver mouthpiece and lifted it to his lips. A buzzing sound came out of the mouthpiece. It sounded like a dying duck to Ganondorf. Link lowered the mouthpiece, blew his lips in a raspberry, and raised the mouthpiece to demonstrate a second time. He wiped it clean before sliding it into the tuba and indicating that Ganondorf should raise the instrument onto his shoulder.

Ganondorf did as told and found the mouthpiece was more or less within reach of his lips. He buzzed into it like Link had done, and a barely-there sound came from the tuba’s bell in response. Link mimed sucking in a deep breath, so Ganondorf tried again with more gusto. A deeper, broader sound was the result.

Moving the valves and tightening the buzz of his lips helped Ganondorf to produce a random assortment of notes until the foreign weight of the tuba on his shoulder forced him to put it down. Link gave him a smattering of polite applause before taking the tuba back and lowering it into its case. The mouthpiece went back into its compartment after being sanitized. 

“I want one,” Ganondorf said, and Link shook his head with a smile before leading him back downstairs. “Actually, my father played the oud. He brought it with him when he and my mother immigrated. I think she still has it. I remember her playing it every so often after he died.”

Link’s face said he wasn’t familiar with the instrument, and Ganondorf jumped at the chance to show what he knew--which wasn’t much. “It’s like a lute. I’ll have to ask her about it when I visit her and my aunt next week.” 

On the computer downstairs, Ganondorf filled out a simple application and tax forms. In return, Link helped him with a schedule. It took the better part of an hour before he was declared an official employee. The hourly wage was generous--almost too generous. He had a feeling Zelda was behind it, so he didn’t argue it. He didn’t want to make Link uncomfortable. 

“So much for a life of leisure,” Ganondorf remarked after Link handed him a schedule from the printer. “I am going to be one busy worker bee between here, my other job, and going to the community center. Oh, but you gave me Friday off. That’s kind of you. So…” Ganondorf folded the schedule in half, then half again. “Do you want to do something that night?” Link looked up from the computer screen. “Something like… a date? With me?”

Link returned his eyes to the computer in a hurry. In the screen’s glow, Ganondorf saw a bit of pink come into his cheeks. “Sorry, I’m no good with subtlety,” Ganondorf rushed out with a wince. “You can refuse. It’s cool. I mean, I had fun with you the other week, and I thought maybe you did too…” He trailed off when he saw Link wasn’t responding or even looking at him. “I guess I was wrong.”

Link closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, which he held for a few seconds. He shook his head and finally looked at Ganondorf again. His fingers lifted from the keyboards to sign, _I did have fun. But I don’t want to rush into anything. Ghirahim left a bad taste in my mouth._

“I’m not asking you to sleep with me,” Ganondorf replied, too sharply in defense. Link cowered a little until Ganondorf apologized. “I just wanted to know if you’re interested in spending more time with me,” he continued when Link had relaxed. “If you want things to… you know, become more than me rescuing you all the time.”

Link smiled thinly at that. His fingers drummed lightly against the keyboard while he considered the offer. Finally, his hands lifted. _I volunteer on Fridays, so I’m always off. You can come with me if you want._

“Sure,” Ganondorf agreed. “Wait…” He leaned more over the counter, and Link drew back some. “I thought you didn’t go anywhere.”

 _Volunteering is different,_ Link answered.

Ganondorf chuckled. “Sure. So, what sort of volunteering work do you do?”

#

Link told Ganondorf to meet him at the bookshop in the morning, as it was a closer drive for Ganondorf than the mansion on the edge of town. He arrived to find a forest-green Lexus convertible parked in Link’s usual spot. The siblings hardly ever drove separately to work, choosing instead to carpool unless Link had the itch to ride his motorcycle. But today Zelda’s SUV was in the lot as well. She had a lot of friends, Link once explained to Ganondorf. 

“We get to ride in that?” Ganondorf asked after meeting Link at the backdoor. Link smiled at the look on Ganondorf’s face and twirled a set of keys on his finger. “But you said this place was out in cow country. You sure…”

Link shrugged off the concern, and indeed when Ganondorf looked past the initial blinding beauty of the car he saw mud and scrapes along its sides. Oddly, Ganondorf liked Link--and the car--more for the imperfections. 

It took almost an hour to arrive at the place where Link volunteered. They drove with the top down the whole way, and Ganondorf smelled the air change from the somewhat-clean stuff of the college town to the muggier air of the city that slowly freshened with the more buildings they left behind. Ganondorf got the impression Link traveled so far simply for the drive.

They started off at around nine in the morning, and the country roads were more or less deserted. But at a stoplight, a souped-up Acura rolled to a stop on the driver’s side. While they waited for the light to change, the two college kids inside the Acura mocked Link, and the driver repeatedly revved the engine.

“Don’t,” Ganondorf said when Link wrapped both hands around his steering wheel with a determined look. The driver and his buddy read the body language as well. In the last few seconds before the light changed, the two cars took turns nudging forward until, with a squeal of tires and plenty of smoke, the Acura leapt forward. It accelerated ahead of Link in a blur of yellow paint and decals.

Link rolled across the intersection, slowly building up to the speed limit where he put the car back into coast. He glanced at Ganondorf with a slightly impatient look when he saw the man still hadn’t relaxed. Two miles later they passed the Acura on the side of the road where a police car had it in check.

A half hour after the Acura, Link pulled into a dirt driveway by a sign that read **Lon Lon Ranch and Rehabilitation Center.** It was a place owned by the family of his psychiatrist, Dr. Malon. They rescued and rehabilitated all sorts of animals, and also offered animal therapy for human patients. Link worked with the animals--he had an uncanny familiarity with them--and occasionally offered a hand in therapeutic horseback lessons.

Today no such lessons were slated, so Link took the time to show Ganondorf around. They visited the smaller barn first where bats and other small mammals were housed in the loft, and the main floor was divided into dog and cat sections. This was where Link had adopted Gengle, he explained. The cat had almost frozen to death one winter two years ago. He was nearly stiff when they brought him to Lon Lon Ranch, but the veterinarians had nursed him back to health. He had been the first animal Link met at the ranch. 

The cats were housed in two wide rooms. Link and Ganondorf spent some time giving them attention before moving on to walk some of the more energetic dogs around the property. The bats didn’t require anything until close to dusk, but the hedgehog and badger in residence needed water and a clean cage. Ganondorf was given the hedgehog to do, as the badger was a little ill-tempered. It was hard to pull him away from the adorable, prickly creature.

The second, bigger barn held an assortment of larger creatures. A fox with a chopped-off tail sulked in a cage, but became almost puppy-like when Link brought it some thawed, dead mice with a scratch around the ears. A few deer were housed far away from the more predatory animals--victims of poor aim and bear traps. They needed fresh feed. Ganondorf took care of that while Link cleaned their stalls of dirty hay. 

One animal didn’t quite belong. Housed in a sturdy cage, the large, exotic cat leapt from the ground to tall perches with liquid grace. A young ocelot, Link explained. It was being housed here temporarily following a raid on an illegal exotic pet store. A rescue center that specialized in big cats would be picking it up in a few days.

“I want one,” Ganondorf said, and Link shook his head with a smile. “Can I…” he stopped, thinking it was probably not allowed.

Link appeared to read his mind. With a glance at the barn door, he pulled a ring of keys off his belt and unlocked the tall cage. The door was opened only enough to allow him and Ganondorf to slip in. A whistle brought the ocelot down from its highest perch to where Link and Ganondorf crouched, and it sniffed cautiously at the lingering disinfectant on Link’s hands before rubbing a cheek against them. He ran his hand down its spotted back and tugged playfully at the tail. The ocelot spun around to bat at his hand with sheathed claws before it spun again and jumped over his head, onto his shoulders. 

“Jesus,” Ganondorf uttered a breathless laugh. The cat was eyeing his wider shoulders now, and with little prompt it leapt unto them. It played with Ganondorf’s red dreadlocks until Link reached up and scratched between its shoulder blades. The ocelot arched, and its nails dug into Ganondorf’s back a little. It jumped off seconds later and bound back up onto its perch. Link gave it the remaining thawed mice in his pocket as a treat.

Ganondorf was still a little shaky after he left the cage. “That was surreal,” he remarked. 

Link only smiled before leading him to a stable. This was where the horses and other livestock were kept. Additionally, a small room inside housed various birds. A red-tailed hawk glared at Ganondorf from behind the bars of its cage while a pair of pigeons cooed on the opposite side of the room.

It was clear the horses were Link’s favorite; especially one in particular, a sorrel mare named Epona. Link hugged her head when she bent it over the top of her stall. She was a permanent resident here. Link had rescued her from a man who was going to put her down when a leg sprain put her out of a race. Now he paid for her upkeep. She had a bit of a limp, but was otherwise healthy. 

“I like this one,” Ganondorf said when he spied a large black stallion a few stalls over. “What’s his story?”

 _He was found half-dead by the side of the road,_ Link explained. _We don’t know anything else. No one reported a missing or stolen horse, and there were no farms nearby. So we kept him._

“Poor guy,” Ganondorf remarked. He patted the horse’s long nose and ran his fingers through its forelock. It looked healthy enough, but he was no expert. “So is he a therapy horse?”

Link nodded before signing, _Do you want to ride him?_

Ganondorf broke into nervous laughter. “The last time I was this close to a horse was when I was a kid at a country fair where they were giving pony rides.”

 _I’ll help,_ Link offered. He jabbed a thumb at a wall of tack at the back of the barn. 

Ganondorf found little reason to say no, and he found himself in the saddle ten minutes later while Link led the stallion around the paddock by the reins. It was indeed therapeutic, and after Ganondorf’s initial nervousness wore off he found himself enjoying the ride. 

When he saw Ganondorf was comfortable, Link handed up the reins to him and gave him basic instruction on spurring the horse into a walk, and how to turn. Ganondorf walked the stallion around the edge of the paddock, then at a trot for a second lap. Link had to halt the horse when he saw Ganondorf was too reluctant to pull on the reins. 

Ganondorf rode the horse back to the stable and slid out of the saddle with a wince. “That’s hard on the back.”

 _It gets easier with practice,_ Link signed. _Let’s eat._ After the stallion was returned to his stall, Link led the way to the main building, half of which housed the medical facility. There was an open kitchen for the volunteers and veterinarians. Around bites of a sandwich, Ganondorf told Link of a frog he had once ‘rescued’ when he was a child. It had escaped one night and made its way into his aunt’s bedroom. Her scream in the middle of the night woke up the whole house. His family still laughed about it at the holidays.

Link’s face was thoughtful after the story. When Ganondorf asked him what he was thinking about, Link shrugged and took another bite of his own sandwich. He chewed slowly and swallowed before moving his hands in an answer. _Sometimes I think about what it would be like to be able to scream when you need to. Sometimes I need to let something out, and my hands aren’t enough._ He paused when he thought Ganondorf would stop him, but the man was listening. _I have music--instruments. But that isn’t enough. And you can’t be hard on an instrument, or it will break._

“I get it,” Ganondorf said. Link’s expression said he didn’t believe him. “No, I do. But I can tell you that just letting things out without control leads to a lot of problems. You want to know how many fights I got into in school? I’m lucky to have graduated. A while later I fell in with my last ex, and we were always at each other’s throats. Then he started hitting me. That’s when I realized I was on a slippery slope not only by staying with him, but also by letting my anger out in uncontrolled ways.” He snapped his fingers. “You know what might help us both? Karate. We can learn to control ourselves while venting out that frustration, and you can learn some self-defense to boot. They give cheap beginners lessons every week at the community center.”

Link at once began to shake his head--not in denial, but in disbelief. He thought his stature would be against him. Ganondorf insisted that wouldn’t be the case. With enough practice and instruction, Link would be able to floor even someone as large as him.

“One lesson,” Ganondorf urged. “Just to try it out.”

Link sighed, but agreed after a little more thought, and Ganondorf cheered his small victory. “You’ll like it,” he insisted.

 _We’ll see,_ Link answered without much hope in his face.


	8. Movement Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few more text messages are passed around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please enjoy!

# Take Notes

### Movement Eight

By the end of Ganondorf’s first week at Band Books, working three of the seven days, he had fallen into a rhythm of his delivery job, the bookshop, and fitting in free activities at the community center. The karate lessons he had mentioned to Link were held on Tuesday evenings, but Link showed reluctance again when Ganondorf brought it up that afternoon. When pressed, Link’s hands stilled and he grew almost frightened. Zelda shot a glare in Ganondorf’s direction.

“Whatever then,” Ganondorf nearly snapped. He withdrew to continue stocking the books that had arrived that morning--books he had dropped off. When those were done, he busied himself with dusting the shelves until closing. By the time the sign was flipped, he was regretting the loss of temper. He slinked out the back door while Zelda and Link were gathering their belongings, and he was clear of the parking lot well before they walked out to it.

By the time Ganondorf had finished his shower, there was a text message waiting on his phone. 

**You didn’t say goodbye.**

Ganondorf sat down on his bed and considered his answer. **I figured you didn’t want me talking to you anymore today.**

**It’s okay,** Link sent back almost at once.

Ganondorf groaned and rapidly tapped out the next message. **Don’t lie. If I scared you or made you mad let me know.**

Link’s answer took longer this time. Almost five minutes had passed before a longer text arrived. **He would punish me if I didn’t do something he wanted me to do, or if I did something wrong. He wouldn’t do it right away. He’d wait until I had forgotten. So I stopped forgetting, and I worried all the time. I started having panic attacks, and then I started to fear having them in front of Zelda. Everything just got worse and worse, so it was easier to lie at the time. Old habits die hard.**

Ganondorf cursed softly. **But things are better now.**

Link’s answer was again delayed. **There’s a muscle in my chest that never healed right after he beat me one time. I didn’t want to lie again to Zelda about hurting myself so I just ignored it. Whenever I lift a lot, I feel it pulling on my chest. And every morning I have to pop a pill after breakfast because otherwise I just want to lie in bed all day and be miserable. I feel broken and worthless all the time.**

**I don’t think you’re broken or worthless,** Ganondorf at once sent back.

**It’s really hard for me to believe that,** was Link’s answer.

**I’ll make you believe,** Ganondorf said with a hasty second message adding, **In a nice way.**

Link didn’t send a text in return. Ganondorf kept the phone on him the rest of the night, but it wasn’t until he was at the bookshop for work two days later that he spoke with Link again. He had to wait his turn, however, as Zelda was already deep into an argument with Link when Ganondorf arrived.

“Have you forgotten the bruised nose he gave you last time?” Ganondorf heard Zelda snap from the storeroom, and he knew Ghirahim was the subject. Fortunately there were no customers in the shop at the moment. Ganondorf slipped down the aisles and leaned against the wall close to the open door. 

“Is that so?” Zelda said next after a silence that marked Link’s answer. “It hasn’t stopped him before, right? He’ll just get you away, or wait until you’re alone.” Another silence, followed by, “No I don’t think you’re stupid, but he _is_ manipulative!”

Another silence was punctuated by something being hit with a dull smack, and Link stormed out of the storeroom to vanish upstairs. Ganondorf didn’t bother to pretend he didn’t hear the argument. When Zelda followed Link out at a slower clip, he asked, “What was that about?”

“Nothing,” Zelda replied at once. Was she afraid Ganondorf would help Link with whatever it was? “Ready to work? Link’s obviously done for the day, so you can pick up the slack.”

There wasn’t too much slack to pick up. Ganondorf did his best to keep his head down and stay busy nonetheless. Zelda had earlier encouraged him to make a small display of his recommended books to put alongside hers and Link’s, so he spent a lot of time on that before getting in more practice at the register with Zelda’s supervision.

Link came downstairs ten minutes before closing to help Zelda and Ganondorf with tidying up the shop. Out of the blue, he apologized to Zelda before asking if Ganondorf could join them for dinner.

“Sure,” Zelda answered, at once pleased again. “If you want,” she added to Ganondorf.

Ganondorf was surprised by the request. He shot a look at Link, who blushed and looked away. The request had been an impulse. Ganondorf nodded in agreement.

“Great,” Zelda said. “Let’s get going then. Impa will need to know we need an extra plate.”

Impa was the Hyrules’ old nurse who had raised them alongside their parents. She lived in the mansion and still cooked for the siblings, along with doing odds and ends around the house. She was short with grey hair and a warm disposition. She was quite protective of her wards, and she gave Ganondorf a scrutinizing look when he was introduced to her. In the end she only lamented how there was one more person she knew who was taller than her before she snagged Zelda to help in the kitchen.

With Zelda occupied, Link was free to beckon Ganondorf upstairs. Gengle found them hallway to Link’s bedroom, and he meowed at Link’s heels until he was given a scratch around the ears. He followed the two men into the bedroom and leapt up onto the desk chair where he settled himself with a purr.

Link lay down on his bed, and Ganondorf took a seat on its edge. It was ridiculously comfortable compared to the stiff bed he had at home. He didn’t dare lie down on it out of fear that he would fall asleep. 

Link fumbled for a small remote hidden in the blankets, and the radio flipped on to soft classical music. He relaxed at the sound of it, and he sat up to pull his phone out of his pocket, which he handed to Ganondorf after pressing a few things. 

A text message thread was on-screen. The contact name at the top said ‘Groose.’

**Hey Link,** the first message began. **Me and the others were talking about how great it was to see you again the other week. We’re wondering if you’re going to ever come back. Your illness is under control now, right?**

Ten minutes after the first text, a second one continued, **Even if you don’t want to come back right now or ever, it would be cool to see more of you. We’re still your friends. We haven’t forgotten you or anything and we understand if things are tough.**

A final text had been sent a half-hour later. **If you want to stop by for old times’ sake, our practice times haven’t changed. Bring your oboe. We can make room.**

The earlier argument made sense now. Ganondorf handed the phone back to Link and said, “You haven’t answered him.” Link waved his free hand at his bedroom door, indicating Zelda, and Ganondorf said, “But it isn’t just her, right?”

Link scowled at the empty air and dropped his phone to sign, _They might just be acting nice because it’s the right thing._

“Or they really do care,” Ganondorf proposed. Link huffed. “Hey, can I see your oboe?”

Link tensed a little and didn’t meet Ganondorf’s eyes at first. After a long minute, he got off the bed and walked to his closet, from which he pulled out a case that was more grey than black from dust. He blew it off before handing it over to Ganondorf to admire. 

“Cool,” Ganondorf remarked after opening the case. “You still play, right?”

Link’s hands worried each other. _Not much anymore,_ he signed.

“Oh.” Ganondorf closed the case. “I guess not.” He handed it up to Link, who put it back in the closet. “So, uh…” He forced a smile to his face. “Do you think Zelda would let you go to your friends’ practice if I went along as a bodyguard?” Link flinched, but Ganondorf went on to say, “I mean, you want to go don’t you? That’s why the two of you were arguing.”

Link nodded reluctantly and leaned against the closet door. _If you go with me she might be okay with it._

“Then let’s go ask her,” Ganondorf suggested, and Link agreed after a moment’s thought. 

In the kitchen, both Impa and Zelda were busy with putting dinner together. Link waited until Zelda noticed him and, with Ganondorf at his side, he put forth the man’s suggestion. Zelda spared Ganondorf a glare before replying, “Link, I already told you it’s a bad idea. Ganondorf was with you last time and Ghirahim still managed to hurt you.”

“I’ll do a better job this time,” Ganondorf promised. “He won’t even piss without me standing overtop him.” Link frowned in annoyance at the remark, but nodded in agreement. 

“Link, I’m not going to repeat myself--”

“What’s all this yelling about, dears?” Impa cut in.

Ganondorf explained the situation as quickly as he could before Zelda could put it in a bad light. Impa was easily convinced it would be good for Link. “Oh let him go,” she said to Zelda, who by now was seething in silence. “He hasn’t seen his friends in so long, and it’ll get him out of the house.”

“Fine!” Zelda snapped. She pointed a finger at Ganondorf. “But we’re both going, understand?”

“No problem,” Ganondorf answered.

Link brightened, ran up to Zelda, and hugged her tight. Her anger melted away in his embrace, and she ruffled the bangs poking out from under his beanie. “Yeah, yeah, I’m the best sister in the world. Go clean up for dinner, won’t you?” She playfully shoved Link away, and he made for the nearest bathroom. He took out his phone along the way.

Ganondorf caught the worry coming back into Zelda’s face, and he said, “It’ll be fine.”

Zelda turned around to continue helping Impa. “Let’s hope,” she muttered with a dark face.


	9. Movement Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link and Ganondorf have some coffee and angry words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter this time, sorry. Please enjoy nonetheless, and thank you for reading!

# Take Notes

### Movement Nine

There was a sign on the bookshop’s door announcing it would be closing early today for a “family event.” Ganondorf chuckled at it and walked in to find Zelda at the counter and Link occupied with shelving books. Ganondorf raised a hand at Zelda and called a hello across the shop at Link.

Link jumped and flashed Ganondorf a startled look. He was down the aisle in seconds where he vanished behind the end of a shelf. 

“Uh…”

“He’s been wound up all day,” Zelda explained. She was flipping through a magazine while she talked. “He’s already puked once.” Something snapped near the back of the shop, and Zelda lifted her head from the magazine to call back, “It’s the truth!”

“The practice tonight?” Ganondorf guessed, and Zelda nodded. “Anything I can do to help?”

Zelda smiled and called next, “Hey, Link! You want Ganondorf to help you relax?” There was a teasing lilt to her voice. Ganondorf heard Link snort in irritation. “Guess that’s a no.”

Nevertheless, Ganondorf walked down the aisles to Link. “Hey,” he greeted when Link looked up. “You all right?”

Link shook his head and dropped his eyes to the floor. His face was pale. 

“Okay.” Ganondorf sighed and rubbed at his neck. “You uh… You want to get out of here for a little? Get some fresh air, or coffee… or something?”

After a moment’s consideration, Link nodded. He led the way to the front of the shop, and Zelda lifted her head. “What’s up?” she asked.

“We’re just taking a break,” Ganondorf told her. Link was already out the door.

Zelda huffed. “Whatever. Just make sure you’re back by five-thirty.”

“Got it.” Ganondorf raised a hand in goodbye and hurried out to the sidewalk. Link was waiting there. When he saw Ganondorf come out, he began to lead the way down the street. Ganondorf fell into step beside him. 

They went one block past the pizza shop and across the street to a corner café. It had beanbag chairs set up around short tables. Ganondorf rolled his eyes at the sight of it when Link wasn’t looking. However, he couldn’t hide his annoyance when he dropped his tall form into a beanbag chair. His legs stuck out at straight angles, and the chair was too short to offer proper back support. Ganondorf nearly spilled his coffee, which was served in a mug so stylized that he couldn’t put his fingers through the handle.

Link sat cross-legged within his beanbag naturally enough while he gripped his mug with both hands. He appeared to find Ganondorf’s struggles amusing, but the cheer didn’t last long. His face turned thoughtful, and he looked off at some unseen point.

“Worried about tonight?” Ganondorf asked, and Link nodded. “Don’t be. Me and Zelda will be there, and your friends are looking forward to seeing you.” He watched Link’s fingers curl against the mug. “You still think they’re only acting nice?” Link took a sip of coffee instead of answering. “Do you think I’m just trying to be nice?”

Link frowned and tapped a finger against his mug before he put it down on the low table. His hands hesitated, poised in the air. It was as if he was bracing for something. They moved soon enough. _How much is my sister paying you?_

“You know that,” Ganondorf reminded Link. “You help her with payroll, don’t you?”

Link’s fingers moved impatiently. _That’s not what I meant._

“Then what…” Ganondorf trailed off when a thought occurred to him. “You’re joking, right?” he asked. Link dropped his eyes with his mouth pressed into a thin line. 

“I don’t believe this,” Ganondorf snapped. “You think your sister is paying me to be your friend?” He struggled to rise out of the beanbag chair, but only succeeded in making himself angrier. “You think I would be willing to manipulate someone like that after what I went through myself?”

Link raised suspicious eyes and signed, _The convenient abusive ex?_

_“Convenient?”_ Ganondorf repeated in a loud voice. People were staring at them now. Link avoided the curious looks and went to sign some more, but Ganondorf cut him off. “Save it! I’m out of here.” He made a greater effort to rise out of the beanbag chair, and he managed to gain his feet. He stumbled into the low table in the process, and Link’s hot coffee spilled over the thin hands reaching to steady it. 

Some of Ganondorf’s anger was dampened by the pain that came to Link’s face when he drew his hands back. It flared up again when an employee came forward offering help and suspicion. Ganondorf fled the café once the employee was busy helping Link. He returned to the bookshop, cut around to the back lot, and only then remembered his keys were in the shop. Well, maybe he could sneak in…

He should have known Link wouldn’t have stayed any longer at the café than himself. Zelda was tutting over Link’s red hands when Ganondorf slipped in through the backdoor. They looked up at the sound of it shutting closed, and Ganondorf froze in place at the end of an aisle.

Zelda abandoned Link to stride down the aisle towards Ganondorf. “What the hell happened?”

“It was an accident,” Ganondorf explained. He couldn’t meet Zelda’s eyes, and his shoulders hunched in defense. “I knocked the table, and the coffee spilled on his hands.” He raised his head a little to sneak a look at Link. “Is he okay?”

“He’ll be fine,” Zelda snapped. “You need to be more careful!”

“He accused me of working for you!” Ganondorf rushed out, and Zelda drew back some in surprise. “He asked me how much you were paying me to be his friend. He implied my ex never existed.”

Zelda turned around, and Ganondorf watched her brow draw down in frustration. She stalked away--back to the counter where Link leaned. He wouldn’t look at her when she asked, “Are we going to go through this once more? How long until you start trusting anyone besides me again?”

Link signed something, but it was too fast for Ganondorf to pick up. Zelda had more practice, and her answer was prompt. “No, Link, I’m not paying him to be your friend. Whatever he’s told you about himself is the truth because guess what? You are not the only person in the world with your problems. Other people have suffered or are suffering too. Some of them are worse off than you.”

Ganondorf edged up the aisle as quietly as he could manage, and Zelda continued, “It’s nice to know you’re not alone, right? Ganondorf’s been through a similar situation to yours. He probably understands what you’re feeling better than I ever could. Better yet, he wants to help you. I say you should let him give it a shot.”

Ganondorf reached the end of the aisle in time to see Zelda pull Link into a hug. He hugged her back and wiped away a tear when they parted, but his eyes were wary when he spied Ganondorf.

“How are your hands?” Ganondorf asked. “I’m sorry,” he added before Link could respond. “I should have controlled myself better.”

Link shook his head and raised his hands to sign. _I’m fine. The coffee wasn’t very hot. I can still play tonight._ He paused before asking, _Are you still coming?_

“Do you want me to?” Ganondorf asked in return. Both Link and Zelda nodded. “Then yes, I’m still coming.”

Good, Link signed back, and he looked earnestly happy. _I’m sorry too,_ he added. _I shouldn’t have been so suspicious._

“It’s okay,” Ganondorf soothed. “We aired it out now. We can go on as if nothing happened. Just don’t be afraid to talk to me. I know I can be scary, and I’ll work hard not to be.”

“Be as scary as you want when you’re up against Ghirahim,” Zelda added.

Ganondorf laughed. “I’ll do my best,” he promised, prompting a smile from Link.


	10. Movement Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link, Zelda, and Ganondorf go to practice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, it's an update! I know!
> 
> I'm still struggling a bit, so please overlook the pacing issues in this chapter, thanks.

# Take Notes

### Movement Ten

Ganondorf arrived at the Hyrule mansion later that evening after the shop had closed. Impa answered his knock and bustled him into the sitting room, offering him ten different things along the way. Ganondorf refused all as politely as he could. In the sitting room, he sunk into a cushy chair with a sigh of relief. Zelda, sitting opposite him, chuckled.

The chair was almost too comfortable. Ganondorf sat up straighter to avoid dozing off. “Where’s Link?” he asked. “We have to leave soon, right?”

“Pacing, probably,” Zelda answered. She was sipping at a glass of tea. “He skipped dinner,” she added with a concerned frown.

“Will he be all right?”

Zelda sighed. “I honestly don’t know.”

Gengle walked into the room and leapt up into Zelda’s lap. Her frown melted away into a smile, and she fell to stroking the cat’s back. “Maybe you could check on him?” she suggested to Ganondorf, and he saw that beneath her smile there was strain. 

Ganondorf hoisted himself out of the chair. “Sure,” he agreed. “I think I remember the way…” 

Zelda chuckled again and offered a short series of instructions. They led Ganondorf to Link’s bedroom door. It was ajar, and through the opening he could see Link sitting on the bed with the oboe case in his lap. His eyes were unfocused as they stared at the wall, but life flickered back into them when Ganondorf knocked on the open door.

“You all right?” Ganondorf asked after he had been invited in. He took a seat on the bed next to Link. “Zelda said you didn’t eat any dinner.” Link shrugged a shoulder. “You want to talk about anything?”

Link shook his head this time. His hands rose to add something, and the oboe case slipped off of his slanted lap. 

Ganondorf caught it before it hit the floor. “Close call,” he remarked when he straightened up. He put the case on the bed between them. “You, uh, playing tonight?”

_I don’t know,_ Link answered with another half-shrug. His thin chest rose and fell with a silent sigh. 

“You don’t have to play,” Ganondorf continued. “It could just be a quick visit if you’re not up to staying. We wouldn’t want you to do anything that would make you uncomfortable.” He pulled the oboe case into his lap and opened it. The instrument was nestled within, divided into three parts. The sight of it reminded him of something. “My aunt likes to listen to ballets,” Ganondorf revealed. “I grew up hearing the swan’s theme from _Swan Lake_ at least once a week. You know when the oboe starts and then the other instruments come in…” 

Link nodded. His hands reached for the case, and Ganondorf handed it over. Their fingers brushed, but Link’s hands stayed steady. He put the case at his side and sucked in a bracing breath. _Ready to go?_ he signed. 

“If you are,” Ganondorf returned. Link nodded, gained his feet, and picked up his case. Ganondorf followed him downstairs to where Zelda waited. They were carpooling to an auditorium in the city where the ochestra rehearsed. Link sat in the back seat alongside Ganondorf, seemingly at his own whim. Zelda kept up a steady commentary with Ganondorf during the ride while Link took in the passing scenery and, once, opened his oboe case to dip something into a container of water within.

_A reed,_ he explained when Ganondorf asked. Hastily he added, _Just in case,_ and Ganondorf smiled.

Upon arriving at the auditorium and getting out of the car, Zelda pulled Ganondorf back while Link walked ahead. “I don’t want him left unsupervised at all while he’s here,” she whispered. “So if he needs to go to the bathroom, I want you to go with him.”

Link wasn’t going to like that. Ganondorf sighed but agreed, all while secretly hoping Link hadn’t had much to drink today. 

The sounds of people gathered together grew louder as Link, Zelda, and Ganondorf progressed through the building. Link’s steps noticeably slowed until he was standing still. Ganondorf, talking to Zelda as they walked, nearly knocked him over.

“Link, what the hell--” Ganondorf stopped when Zelda’s elbow found his rib. They were in a wide room scattered with instrument cases, some chairs, and stands. Two flat doors set into the left wall were open, and through them came glimpses of dark curtains and threads of conversations. 

“I’m going to head out to the seats,” Zelda spoke up. She stepped forward and kissed the top of Link’s head before crossing the room to another door that led to a hall on the opposite side. Link appeared to jolt back to awareness when the door closed, and he looked around. There was a nostalgic look to his profile. 

“I’ll stay here until you’re ready to go out,” Ganondorf offered. Link nodded his thanks before taking a seat in a folding chair. He began to piece together his oboe. From the stage came a spike in the conversation; Zelda had been spotted. Link’s hands jerked when his name was spoken in a high voice, and he quickly finished his work. His rise to his feet was sudden, and he shot Ganondorf a nervous smile before walking out to the stage.

Ganondorf followed him, but hopped off the stage once he saw Link was amongst his friends. They practically surrounded him when he was noticed. Ganondorf dropped into the seat beside Zelda with a sigh. “No Ghirahim,” he noted. On stage the musicians were more or less returning to their seats, although some hung around Link once he was seated in a spare chair Groose had set up for him.

“Yeah I mentioned that,” Zelda said while she watched the stage. “Apparently he’s been showing up late the past couple of weeks. That’s fine with me. Gives Link a chance to get settled before he shows up.”

Link was doing just that. Once the initial surprise and eagerness had left his friends, and they had returned to their sections, he began to warm up his instrument with scales. Between them, a few people came forward to be tuned and he helped them, using a thumbs up or down to indicate if they were too flat or sharp. 

Ganondorf stretched out his legs and folded his arms behind his head. “He’s really in his element, huh?” he remarked, and Zelda nodded. “A far cry from the nervous little--” He stopped, because Link had switched from scales to a familiar solo. The music cut across the talk onstage, and people fell quiet to listen. 

“Is that… _Swan Lake?”_ Zelda pondered, frowning. 

“I think so,” Ganondorf answered casually while his whole body tingled. His eyes switched from Link’s face, eyes closed in concentration, to Groose. The man had put down his trombone and was taking in hand a French horn that had passed across the stage to him at his urgent beckoning. The horn’s sound picked up where Link left off, continuing the theme, and Link’s eyes snapped open with surprise. He grinned at Groose’s red-faced enthusiasm, and the musicians cheered and laughed until Groose ceased playing. 

“I forgot the rest,” Groose admitted, and more laughter sounded across the stage. The horn was handed back, and the clap of a door signaled its return. The instrument was nearly dropped in surprise. The musicians fell silent as their conductor strode across the room to the stage steps. He was clearly in a foul mood. 

“Asshole,” Zelda muttered under her breath when Ghirahim took his place onstage. 

He didn’t hear her, but he noticed Link almost at once. The green beanie was hard to miss. Ghirahim rocked back as if shocked, but recovered quickly. He dropped a hand to his hip and nodded at Link, asking, “And who said you could come back?”

“I invited him,” Groose called across the stage. 

Ghirahim paid him no mind. “Visiting?” he asked next, and Ganondorf saw Link nod meekly. “Good. We wouldn’t want you getting too comfortable. That chair doesn’t suit you.”

Groose had put Link in the first chair, a spot given up willingly for the evening by the other two oboists. The orchestra rippled in the wake of Ghirahim’s remark, and he was at once all smiles as he looked over them. “I’m joking, of course. We’re all very happy to have you back, Link, if only for a night.”

“I want to hit him,” Zelda hissed at Ganondorf, and he agreed. “Link should be conducting, not that snotrag,” she added.

Ganondorf agreed with that as well. He settled further into his seat and tried to look past Ghirahim to the music that was being played. It helped that he could see Link from his seat. Watching him play was soothing; from the way his lips moved around the reed to the fingers that rose and fell along the oboe’s length. 

Ghirahim, however, wasn’t as impressed. He frequently implied the oboes were causing problems for the rest of the orchestra, and that something about them was different this week from the last. Zelda scoffed and tutted at each accusation, and frequently informed Ganondorf that Ghirahim’s claims were baseless. Ganondorf, having less musical experience, said nothing in return. However, even he began to notice a change for the worse in Link’s playing after an hour of Ghirahim’s subtle attacks. 

Now there was reason to point out Link as a problem, and Ghirahim left no opportunity go to waste until he finally snapped out, “It’s obvious you haven’t picked up that thing in months. You’re dragging the whole orchestra down. Get off my stage.”

Zelda sat up straighter in her seat, and Ganondorf heard her fingernails dig into the armrests. He put a hand on her arm, reminding her, “He can’t hurt him in front of all these people.”

“He already _is_ hurting him,” Zelda hissed. She was right, but they couldn’t do anything. Even the orchestra remained silent as Link got out of his chair and threaded his way between the musicians. He vanished behind the curtains.

“Let’s go,” Ganondorf whispered. He and Zelda left the auditorium and followed the hall back to the music room. They found Link there despondently taking apart his oboe. Zelda and Ganondorf stood apart for a moment until the former stepped forward towards Link. “He was being too hard on you. Don’t let him discourage you, all right? We can come back next week--”

She was cut off by the sound of the oboe case snapping closed. Link stood up and stormed out of the room with the case banging against his thigh. Zelda cursed under her breath but followed, calling Link’s name. Ganondorf trailed after her with his head down in troubled thought.


	11. Movement Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link is in a foul mood.

# Take Notes

### Movement Eleven

The oboe case was on the floor, hidden in the shadow of the driver’s seat. Zelda was quiet while she focused on the dark road, and her eyes flickered often to the rearview mirror. But Link couldn’t be seen, slumped as he was against the car door. On the opposite end of the seat, Ganondorf fidgeted in the car’s heavy atmosphere.

It was a relief to see the mansion, alight on its small hill, come into view at the end of the long driveway. Impa was waiting for them at the door; Zelda must have called ahead. Link was the first out of the car, and he brushed past Impa when she reached out to him with a comforting word. Zelda was on his heels, calling his name with a mix of annoyance and concern in her voice.

Ganondorf had doubled-back to the car for the oboe case, which Link had left behind. He handed it to Impa at the entrance and said, “I think I’ll go. I won’t be any help here.”

“Nonsense, dear--” Impa began to say, but Ganondorf shook his head. He wanted to yell at Link for giving up so easily, and that wouldn’t do any good. Best to retreat before things got worse. 

“I’ll see him at work tomorrow,” Ganondorf added, and he wished Impa a good night before walking away to his car. Impa gave him a wave as he turned the car around, and he returned it with a forced smile.

#

Ganondorf’s delivery job was a nightmare the next day. Too much traffic, too many deliveries, and shorthanded staff made the day feel longer than it was, so it was in relief that he opened Band Books’s door and walked into the quiet.

Only it wasn’t quiet. Ganondorf grumbled at the sound of the classical music blaring down the stairs. Zelda looked equally displeased, if the fingers rubbing at her forehead were any indication. She looked up when Ganondorf’s shadow fell over her, and he saw her eyes were bloodshot. But she was relieved to see him.

_“Please_ talk some sense into him,” Zelda begged, raising her voice to be heard. “No sooner were we home last night did he go out on that damn bike of his--”

Ganondorf felt a guilty lurch in his gut when he remembered Impa’s suggestion the night before.

“I was up half the night waiting for him,” Zelda was continuing. “He didn’t come home until close to two in the morning, and then he just played his stupid games the rest of the night. I wanted to smack him.” She clenched her hands into fists and uttered a sound of frustration and anger. The fists came down hard onto the countertop. “I don’t want to be mad at him, but he’s not making it easy!”

“Okay.” Ganondorf raised his hands in a plea for calm. “I can try talking to him, but I might just end up yelling at him.”

“Do what you have to, even if it means punching some sense into him,” Zelda said in a seething voice. She likely didn’t mean the words. Probably. It was hard to tell with the look in her eyes.

Regardless, Ganondorf vowed to keep his hands to himself. He walked upstairs to the lounge in what he hoped was a nonchalant air. But when he entered the room and found the blaring source of the music, he was compelled to shut it off. 

Link looked up from the television when silence fell. His face was drawn, and there were bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep. But like his sister, he had plenty of anger to spare for his face when he saw who had joined him in the room. 

Walking up the stairs, Ganondorf had put together a quick plan of what he would say, but his annoyance with Link changed the words and tone as they left his mouth. “So you’ve given up that easily? You’re going to let him win?”

The game system was turned off with an angry push of a few buttons, and the controller was tossed aside. Link stood up as if to leave, only to be stopped when Ganondorf moved in between him and the door. “Let’s talk,” Ganondorf suggested.

Link gave an angry shake of his head, pushed past Ganondorf, and crossed over to the music room. The door was shut, but Ganondorf wasn’t deterred. He opened it and stepped into the small room with its smell of brass, oil, and resin. Link was standing with his back to the door and his face in his hands, but he whirled around at the sound of Ganondorf’s heavy step. A curt hand indicated the door, but Ganondorf ignored it.

“Let me guess,” Ganondorf began instead. “You never want to go to practice again? You’re not good enough to play with your friends? Ghirahim was right all along? That’s quitter’s talk. You’ve let him manipulate you again!”

Link folded his arms, hunched his shoulders, and glared at the floor. 

“Got nothing to say about that?” Ganondorf pressed. “It it because you know it’s the truth? Well it doesn’t have to be. You need to learn to stand up to him. He can only manipulate you if you continue to let him do it.”He scoffed. “But maybe you like that. Maybe it’s easier to let someone tell you how to act, or feel, or behave.”

Link sneered and shifted his tense shoulders. His fingers were digging into his arms, and Ganondorf saw the skin around them was growing red. He acted on instinct, and reached out to take hold of Link’s thin left wrist. “Hey, stop that--”

The anger in Link’s face and posture shifted towards fear when Ganondorf’s hand tightened around his wrist. All hostility drained from him, and he shrunk away as much as he could like a stricken dog. Ganondorf released the wrist almost at once with a rushed apology. “I didn’t mean--”

Link rushed to back up, tripped over an instrument case, and fell hard to the ground. His face expressed the pain his voice couldn’t when his tailbone hit the floor. He shrunk away more when Ganondorf stretched out a hand towards him. 

Ganondorf dropped the hand and crouched down on the other side of the rocking instrument case. It settled while he and Link stared at each other--one with thinning patience, the other with mounting fear. Ganondorf broke his gaze when he ran a hand over his face. “Look, I’m just trying to help!” he snapped. “You think I want to see you like this, with your tail between your legs? You can’t let your fear of him dictate how you live, Link!”

Link’s left arm rose, and the fingers groped for the edge of the work table above him. He pulled himself onto his feet with Ganondorf following suit. The table wobbled when Link backed into it to get further away from the looming man. 

“So you’d rather cower than accept any help?” Ganondorf pressed. “If I wanted to hurt you, it would be all too easy. You’re a toothpick compared to me, and you can barely look me in the eye--let alone defend yourself if I really wanted to hurt you. Is that okay with you? Is that how you want to be seen--weak? A coward?”

The anger returned to Link’s eyes, and his jaw clenched. He raised and dropped his hands at stiff angles in a gesture of frustration before he stepped forward and pushed at Ganondorf’s chest. The larger man didn’t move, but he smirked. “Well, that’s a little better. Guess you can muster up a little bit of courage when you’re pushed, eh? But it’s not enough.” Ganondorf cast a stern look down at Link. “Not if you want to ever get out from under Ghirahim’s shadow.”

A snort was Link’s answer before he turned around and paced across the small room. His hands rose to his head, and the fingers pushed up under his beanie where they clenched at his hair. A trumpet was snatched up from the work table seconds later, and Link sucked in a deep breath. The instrument’s piercing blare filled the room, again and again.

Ganondorf backed away from Link and threw his hands up over his ears. The notes were dulled only a little. Link’s face was turning redder with each fresh breath, and the trumpet practically vibrated with the force of his playing--if the blatting sounds could be called that.

Zelda appeared at Ganondorf’s side, her footsteps masked by the trumpet. She shouted something, rushed Link, and tore the trumpet away from his lips. It dropped to the floor, and Link followed it, slumped in Zelda’s arms. He was gasping for breath, and his brow was damp.

“I know, I know. Calm down, it’s okay…” Zelda’s hand moved up and down Link’s hitching back. She cursed when the front door’s bell tinkled up the stairs. “Can you--?”

“Yeah,” Ganondorf agreed. He left the siblings to see to the customer. It was a relief to return to normalcy. The distraction of the customer prevented him from dwelling too much on the fact that he had enjoyed yelling at Link. He didn’t want to return to being the kind of person who thrived on strife. He had to focus on helping Link instead of enabling himself.

The customer took his time before a pair of books were selected and paid for. Ganondorf followed him to the door and saw him out. When the door had shut, he flipped the sign over to CLOSED and turned the lock. It was still quiet upstairs. The creaks under Ganondorf’s feet sounded as loud as gunshots, as did the creak of the lounge door when he opened it. Zelda had moved Link to the sofa, and now he was resting. She looked both relieved and torn. 

“It’s been a while since he’s gone off like that,” Zelda said when Ganondorf entered the room. 

“Sorry,” Ganondorf mumbled.

“No.” Zelda laughed softly and shook her head. “It’s good. He’s always holding everything in--bottling it up. I just wish he didn’t torture himself like this. Going without sleep is a bad habit of his.” She pushed herself up with a last brush of her fingers over Link’s head. “Come on, let’s get some coffee while he gets a little rest. My treat.” Zelda didn’t wait for Ganondorf to agree. She left the lounge and descended the stairs, and he followed her after a glance at Link.


	12. Movement Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link and Ganondorf help each other out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.

# Take Notes

### Movement Twelve

To Ganondorf’s relief, Zelda knew a place to get coffee that didn’t involve beanbag chairs. However, the catch this time was cats. After collecting their respective drinks they took up a table in the corner of the front half of the shop, which was devoted to the friendly felines. Zelda had purchased a small bag of treats along with her coffee, and she dished them out to the half-dozen cats that crowded at her feet. 

“Are you a cat person?” Zelda asked after one of the cats had leapt into Ganondorf’s wide lap. 

“They’re all right,” Ganondorf answered. He scratched at the cat’s ears, and it purred.

“Link loves cats,” Zelda added.

“I’m more of a pig person,” Ganondorf went on to say. Zelda gave him a perplexed look, and he elaborated, “I have a potbellied pig named Nabs. She was a gift from my ex after one of his more violent rages. He knew how much I liked them, and he figured I would forgive him.” He shrugged. “It worked for a while.”

“And you kept her?” Zelda asked.

Ganondorf nodded. “Yeah, because I liked her and I was afraid of what he would do to her after I left him. But now we’re stuck together in this little apartment--if you can even call it that--and I don’t know how much longer I can keep her. She’s getting bigger.”

“Hmmm.” Zelda’s lip turned up in a thoughtful pout. Her hands clapped together an instant later. “Why not take Nabs to Lon Lon Ranch? They have plenty of room, and you’ll have an excuse to take rides alone with Link every Friday.”

Ganondorf laughed at the mischievous look in Zelda’s eyes, and he was at once in a better mood. “That would actually be really great,” he went on to say. “That way at least one of us gets out of that hole in the wall.”

“Then I’ll talk to Link about it,” Zelda promised. Her hand ran down the back of a passing cat. “So what are you doing after work?”

“Not sure yet,” Ganondorf replied. 

“Oh.” Zelda sighed. “I thought you would be going to the self-defense class you were talking about with Link. You know, with Link.”

“He hasn’t really been in the mood, it’s seemed,” Ganondorf reminded her. His free hand stroked the cat in his lap. It had settled down and was purring up a storm. “But maybe this disaster with his band practice will change his mind.”

“It’s not about him _wanting_ to learn, it’s about him _needing_ to learn,” Zelda insisted. “I don’t want him to be scared all the time. Learning how to defend himself will give him the confidence boost he needs.”

“I’ll talk to him about it,” Ganondorf promised.

Zelda was at once cheered. “Great! I’m sure he’ll do well. He’s a quick learner. And hey--thanks.” She gave Ganondorf a smile.

“No problem,” Ganondorf returned, blushing a little.

Upon returning to the shop, Zelda huffed when she saw the door sign had been flipped over to OPEN. Inside, Link was ringing up a customer’s selection of books. He avoided Zelda’s glare throughout the transaction. Once the customer was out of the shop--and out of earshot--Zelda rounded on her brother.

“I told you to rest!” she nearly snapped. Link huffed, folded his arms, and rolled his eyes. “Don’t give me that attitude, Link!”

Ganondorf was sure there were books that needed stocking. He backed away from the feuding siblings and busied himself with a stack of boxes from the backroom. He took his time as he moved down the aisles, all the while trying not to listen to Zelda’s side of the argument. Her berating found his ears nonetheless as she tore into Link for his behavior in the last day before she shoved a sandwich into his hands that she had bought at the coffee shop.

“Get that in your stomach and then take your medication,” Zelda ordered. “I know you forgot,” she added before Link could claim otherwise. He scowled and took an angry bite out of the sandwich. With a triumphant look, Zelda turned from the counter and vanished upstairs. Link bit off another piece of the sandwich, chewed a few times, and choked when he swallowed it too fast. He turned his reddening face away from Ganondorf when the man shot him concerned look. The piece was forced down.

Zelda returned with a prescription bottle. “You all right?” she asked when she saw Link’s flushed face. He shook his head to dismiss her concern. A bottle of water was pulled out of the mini fridge and put down on the counter. “So,” Zelda began, “Ganondorf and I were talking about taking his pet potbellied pig to Lon Lon Ranch. She’s running out of room at his place. What do you think?”

Link shrugged before popping a pill into his mouth, followed by a swallow of water. 

Zelda clapped her hands together. “Great! Then it’s settled. After dinner you can stop by his place to pick up Nabs--she’s the pig.”

“What?” Ganondorf’s head appeared from behind a shelf. Link’s chewing slowed, and he stared at Zelda. 

“But you’ll need rest first,” Zelda continued. “So off you go--upstairs for a nap.” She shooed Link with both hands, and he continued to stare back at her until she nearly growled, _“Now.”_

Link finished his last bite of food and slunk away upstairs. Maybe he really was tired, or maybe he was tired of dealing with Zelda. Either way, the lounge room door snipped closed and stayed that way.

“Zelda--”

“You can thank me later.”

“Zelda, _no.”_ Ganondorf’s adamant tone finally turned Zelda around. “Link at my place? My place isn’t even a place. I don’t…” Ganondorf trailed off.

“You don’t want him thinking bad of you?” Zelda guessed. “Link doesn’t judge people like that. Neither do I. This is for your pig’s happiness, Ganondorf.”

“Oh, only for my pig’s happiness, huh?” Ganondorf pressed. Zelda returned a smile and took her place behind the counter as a customer walked in. Ganondorf resumed stocking, his mind speeding ahead to the dirty dishes in his sink and the floor that needed a good vacuuming. 

At the shop’s closing, Zelda roused Link. He came downstairs looking brighter-eyed and carrying himself a little straighter. Zelda remarked that sleep looked good on him, and the worst he did was roll his eyes.

Somehow, Ganondorf managed to clock out and drive away without having Zelda bring up the proposed visit again. He drove home as fast as he dared. Nabs greeted him at the door, snorting and squealing. He gave her a brief scratch on the head before setting into his chores. Once everything was done, Ganondorf took a step back and realized his place would never look clean. Stuff was piled everywhere on account of the small space. He worked on trying to straighten things out until his phone chimed with a text message.

**I’m here.**

The doorbell buzzed. The button was downstairs in the building’s small lobby, set above Ganondorf’s mail slot. Ganondorf panicked and hurriedly typed back, **You don’t know my address.**

**It was in your employee file,** Link texted back. **Can I come up?**

“Shit,” Ganondorf hissed. He gave his place a final look-over. It wasn’t too bad. He supposed. “Shit,” he repeated, but sent, **Sure.**

It wasn’t until after Ganondorf had released the lock on the lobby door did he realize that he could have carried Nabs downstairs instead. But it was too late. He soon heard footsteps approaching. A light rapping fell upon his door.

Nabs hurried to the door, eager to meet the visitor, and Ganondorf opened it. Link was on the other side. He smiled, walked inside, and at once knelt down to give some loving attention to Nabs. 

Ganondorf wetted his dry lips. “Don’t let her fool you,” he said in a shaky voice. “It’s not like she’s starved for attention. Although I guess she will be soon enough.”

Link straightened up and shook his head. _She’ll have lots of company,_ he signed with a reassuring smile. His eyes flickered over the apartment before his hands added, _And more room._

“Right,” Ganondorf said with a sigh. He sunk down onto the loveseat that took up the bulk of one side of the apartment. It was a single room with a small bathroom. A shelving unit divided the room into the sleeping area and the living room. A metal strip marked the line where the cheap carpet ended and the just as cheap kitchen linoleum began.

Link’s face fell when Ganondorf hid his own in his hands. He edged himself around the man’s knees, which left only a small space between them and the largely-empty television cabinet set against the back of the shelving unit. He dropped into the small space on the loveseat to Ganondorf’s right, and Nabs wiggled under Ganondorf’s legs to reach him.

Ganondorf dropped his hands to watch Link give Nabs more attention. “You’re really good with animals,” he remarked. Link shrugged. “Why don’t you become a vet or something?”

Link shrugged again with less heart. His finger tapped at his throat, and he forced a wan smile. 

“Yeah,” Ganondorf sighed with an apology that Link waved off. “Guess we’re both sort of stuck in a rut, huh? Well, at least Nabs will be happy. Come on, let’s get this over with.”

Nabs liked car rides, Ganondorf assured Link. She grunted happily as Ganondorf carried her downstairs and into Link’s car, and she fell asleep in her owner’s lap on the way to the ranch. With the evening drawing to a close, the ranch’s exterior lights lit up the buildings. Link guided Ganondorf to the clinic, which glowed with hygienic light. 

_She needs a checkup before she can join the others,_ Link explained. Ganondorf could see the reasoning behind that, so he placed Nabs into a holding cage with no complaint. A blanket, a worn plush animal, and some food and water made her comfortable. Link had already texted the ranch owners about Nabs, so it was merely a matter of leaving a note of thanks. Ganondorf crouched and stuck his fingers through the cage’s bars to stroke Nabs’s head. She was already asleep, snorting softly.

_You can visit anytime,_ Link promised when he saw Ganondorf wipe away a tear. _I’ll bring you._

The ride back was quiet for almost the whole way. It wasn’t like Link could sign while he drove, but Ganondorf had kept up a commentary on the way to the ranch. Now he sat, slumped in the passenger seat, while he watched the dark countryside give over to pavement and high-rises. But a familiar street and a glance at the car’s dashboard clock encouraged Ganondorf to speak up. “Hey, take that next left?”

Link obeyed without question, and Ganondorf continued to direct him. He felt bad about using Ghirahim’s conditioning to his benefit, but it was for Link’s benefit too. After a few turns and stops, the car swung into the community center’s parking lot. Link backed into a parking space and turned the engine off. He stared through the windshield at the square building.

“Come on,” Ganondorf encouraged. “They’re holding a self-defense class tonight.” He got out of the car and bowed over to look in at Link, who hadn’t yet moved. “It’ll be fun,” Ganondorf promised. “At the very least you’ll have an excuse to knock me around for dragging you out here.”

Link sighed but unhooked his seatbelt and got out of the car. He followed Ganondorf through a door, down a hall, and into a small exercise room. The equipment had been pushed to the sides to allow a spread of mats on the floor. People--mostly women, but some men--mingled by the walls and talked, or studied their phones. 

“Be right back,” Ganondorf promised, and he left Link to stand stiff-shouldered by the door while he spoke with the red-haired, thickset woman and her much slighter male companion standing not far off. He returned after a short talk, and a minute later the woman and man made their way to the middle of the room.

“Good evening!” the woman boomed in a strong voice, and the talking quieted. “My name is Telma.”

“And you can call me Pipit,” the man added with bright spirit in his eyes. “Welcome to our self-defense session.”

“If you’ve come here expecting to break cement blocks or kick someone’s head off, you’ll want the karate lessons that start tomorrow evening.” Someone walked out of the room at Telma’s words. She waited until they were gone before continuing, “By the end of this session, Pipit and I hope you’ll have enough knowledge to get away from anyone who tries to assault or rob you. So, let’s start with a demonstration. I’ll need a volunteer from the audience.” Telma scanned the people in the room and her eyes lingered on Ganondorf when he stepped forward. “Great. I hope you’re okay with getting tossed around.”

“Just try me,” Ganondorf said, and he made a show of cracking his knuckles.

“Oh, I won’t be your opponent,” Telma said, and she stepped aside to allow Pipit to move forward. He was barely taller than Link, and only a little less skinny. The onlookers shifted and laughed at the uneven matchup.

“Ganondorf, is it?” Telma asked, and Ganondorf nodded. “Go ahead and try to restrain Pipit.”

“Easy,” Ganondorf remarked. He charged at Pipit from head-on and got his hands in a chunk of t-shirt. Then something happened. He didn’t know what, but he felt his back hit the floor. Pipit had turned the tables in an instant and had slammed Ganondorf down against the mat. The onlookers gasped, and a few cheered.

Ganondorf gained his feet with a grunt and a wince. “You got lucky,” he said in an attempt to play off his loss. “You saw me coming.”

“Then try me from behind!” Pipit encouraged, cheekily.

Ganondorf scoffed and moved behind Pipit, who made no attempt to turn or even look back. From behind, he easily got his arms around Pipit’s chest and upper arms, and he attempted to lift the young man from the ground to introduce him to the mat. Instead, Pipit shifted Ganondorf’s center of gravity, pushed back against him, and slammed the larger man down once again with himself safely sprawled on top. He disengaged himself from Ganondorf’s loosened grip, gained his feet, and hurried out of reach.

The onlookers cheered and clapped. Ganondorf pushed himself up to his feet and shook Pipit’s hand when it was offered. He returned to Link with his pride more bruised than his body. Link looked amused, and also much more interested in the class than five minutes ago.

By the end of the hour, Telma and Pipit had instructed pairs of students in various self-defense moves. Ganondorf worked with Link, and he was pleased to watch the confidence grow in the young man with each skill learned. As a finishing touch to the evening, Link repeated Pipit’s move and managed to floor Ganondorf when the man came at him from behind.

Lying on the mat with Link atop him for those brief seconds was a test of Ganondorf’s self-control. He could feel Link’s heat against his body, and smell his skin and hair. Link’s heart, thumping hard from the exercise, throbbed against Ganondorf’s chest. Then Link slipped away and gained his feet, putting distance between himself and his “attacker,” and the moment was broken.

At the class’s conclusion, Link shook Telma’s and Pipit’s hands and expressed his thanks with some help from Ganondorf. He left the community center thrumming with energy; it filled the car on the ride back to Ganondorf’s apartment building. Even without a voice, Link’s excitement got through.

After arriving to Ganondorf’s place, Link walked him to the lobby. He signed his thanks along the way. _I had fun,_ he signed with a smile. _I never knew I could do something like that._

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Ganondorf returned. “Hopefully you won’t have to use any of what you learned, but if you ever want to practice I guess I could be convinced.”

Link grinned at that before opening the door to the lobby. Ganondorf walked in and went to his mailbox, which he hadn’t checked earlier in his rush to clean his apartment. It was only advertisements. He rolled them up between his hands and turned to Link. “So, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at work--”

Link rose up on the toes of his shoes and pressed a quick kiss to Ganondorf’s cheek. The touch was fleeting. Link fell back onto his flat soles, looking surprised. The expression shifted to something close to horror a second later, and he backed up and fled the lobby. The door shut, closing Ganondorf within the space’s ringing silence.


	13. Movement Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience!
> 
> I'm sorry for the last two months, but in February I had a panic attack (a first for me) and the time since then has been spent recovering mentally and finding medicine and stuff that worked for me. I was actually in the middle of writing this chapter when the panic attack happened, and when you read it I'm sure you'll understand why it was hard for me to jump right back into it. 
> 
> Regardless, I'm much better than I was back in February and I hope to get back into the rhythm of updates. Thank you again for understanding!

# Take Notes

### Movement Thirteen

Link had kissed Ganondorf. It was only on the cheek, and only briefly, but still… Mind buzzing, Ganondorf began to climb the stairs to his apartment. He would never have expected such a forward move from Link, and he wondered if the self-defense class had been every bit the confidence booster Zelda had hoped. 

Or maybe not. Ganondorf’s climbing slowed as he thought back on Link’s expression and quick escape. He picked up his climbing, doubling his pace, and pulled out his phone. He had Zelda’s number on speed dial. She picked up after the second ring.

“Hey!” Zelda sounded cheered. “I guess you guys went to that class after all, huh?”

“Yeah--listen.” Ganondorf reached his apartment door and unlocked it. “Is Link prone to panic attacks?” 

“Uh--he was. After he got away from Ghirahim. He thought the bastard would come after him. Why are you asking? Is he--”

“I don’t know. I’ll call back.” Ganondorf shoved the phone back into his pocket and opened his freezer. He pulled the ice tray out and turned back out of the apartment to rush back down the stairs. 

Link’s car was still in the parking lot. Ganondorf could see him in the front seat with his hands over his mouth and nose. Tears streamed around his fingers, and he was hyperventilating. Ganondorf opened the car door and dropped to his knees in the gravel so as to look less intimidating. Link flinched nonetheless, and jumped when he heard the ice tray crack.

Ganondorf reached up and gently pulled down Link’s left hand. “Link, it’s all right. Here, hold this for me.” He placed an ice cube into Link’s palm and closed the fingers around it before Link could pull away in surprise. “It’s cold, right? Can you feel it numbing your skin?” 

Link managed a jerky nod, and Ganondorf mirrored it with a smoother one. “Can you think of anything else this cold? There’s ice cream, those metal poles kids stick their tongues to, new snow…” He went on like this before switching the ice cube to Link’s other hand. “Look, it’s almost melted away. Think you can melt away that panic with it? Can you feel it running down your arm with the water and out of your body? Just like melted ice cream in the warm sun.”

The ice cube was a mere sliver by the time Link’s breathing had evened out. Most of the panic had finally left his eyes to be replaced by redness and an exhausted look. Ganondorf threw the ice tray into the grass where he could retrieve it later. “Come on, I’ll drive you home. Move over.”

Link eased himself over to the passenger seat on shaking limbs, and Ganondorf climbed into the driver’s seat. He adjusted the seat for his larger frame with an apology and turned the key hanging from the ignition. The thrum of the beautiful car’s engine would have pleased him if not for the current situation. He drove with care to Link’s house while the young man sniffled and trembled in the passenger seat.

At the house, a button inside the car opened the garage. Ganondorf pulled in alongside Link’s motorcycle and cut the engine. Zelda appeared at the door leading into the house, looking almost panicked herself. She watched Link climb out of the car at which point she hugged him and ushered him into the house. Impa had warmed a plate of leftovers for him.

Ganondorf followed Zelda into the house and joined her in the living room where they could speak out of Link’s earshot. “Thank you,” was the first thing Zelda said, smiling, after she and Ganondorf had taken seats. “You left your phone on in your pocket. I heard how you calmed him down.”

“Oh.” Ganondorf felt his face grow warm. “It was something I was taught before. He, uh… He kissed me on the cheek after we got back to my place, after the self-defense class. I guess he thought Ghirahim was going to jump out of the shadows and attack him for it.”

Zelda’s hands wrung together, and she glanced at the door of the living room. “For a while after Link and Ghirahim… separated, Link was convinced he was being stalked. It got so bad we had to hire a private investigator, but he never found any evidence that someone was watching Link, so we let the matter drop. It was during then that the panic attacks were at their worst. He’s been really good for a while, though.”

A stab of guilt hit Ganondorf in the gut. “Maybe I should just stay away--for Link’s sake.”

“No, no.” Zelda shook her head. “Link’s been so much happier since meeting you, really. You might not see it at work, but at home he’s a lot better. A lot more cheerful. He really likes you, Gan.”

“You think it’s worth it, putting him though all this stress?”

“If you have any more tricks up your sleeve like the ice cube, I don’t think you need to worry about him being stressed for too long.” Zelda laughed at Ganondorf’s flustered reaction. “Hey, you drove Link’s car here right?” She laughed again when she saw the realization come to Ganondorf’s face. “Why don’t you have something to eat, and then I’ll call a cab for you.”

“Sure,” Ganondorf agreed. He followed Zelda into the kitchen where she invited him to anything and everything that was in the cabinets and kitchen. He chose a simple can of soup, and Impa offered to heat it up for him. It made him feel almost like a child to have her place the bowl of steaming soup in front of him, but he got over it quickly when his stomach voiced its opinion. Link, sitting across from him, picked his slow way through chicken and cauliflower.

Impa and Zelda found a reason to leave the kitchen; Link raised his head to watch them go. Ganondorf brought his attention back when he said, “I’m glad you’re better. You had me scared for a minute there.”

Link signed, _Sorry,_ but Ganondorf waved a hand at the apology. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

It didn’t appear Link believed Ganondorf. He dropped his head and resumed picking at his food. He wasn’t eating anything; only pushing it around. Ganondorf finished the rest of his soup in silence. He was rinsing out the bowl in the sink when Zelda came in to announce his cab had arrived.

“Thank you again,” Zelda said to Ganondorf when he was climbing into the cab. “Don’t worry about the fare or tip,” she added before he could close the door. “I’ve taken care of it.”

“Oh.” Ganondorf frowned a little before pulling the door closed. He forgot to say thanks, so he mouthed it. Zelda smiled and waved, and the cab drove off. For the first few minutes of the ride Ganondorf chewed on Zelda’s generosity, feeling slightly annoyed--although he couldn’t say why. 

Later, climbing the stairs to his apartment, Ganondorf felt the evening’s events dragging on his every step. It took him twice as long to reach his door. Upon opening it, he instinctively put a leg into the widening gap to stop Nabs from running out. The lack of excited oinks reminded him that she was gone. He went to bed a short while later with a head heavy with thoughts.

At seven in the morning, Ganondorf’s phone chirped to life, waking him out of a strange dream. He fumbled for the phone, which was vibrating across the floor by the bed, and lifted the screen to his eyes. It was his boss, Daphnes. He groaned and sat up. Today was supposed to be a day-off. They were always doing this.

Ganondorf was tempted to ignore the call, but instead he answered it with a groggy, “Hello?” He was already thinking ahead, trying to guess who had called off and what deliveries he would be taking on.

Daphnes’s deep voice was tinged with anger when he said, “I need you to come in right now.”

“Who called off this time?” Ganondorf asked.

“Just get your ass over here!” Daphnes snapped, and the line went dead with a beep.

Ganondorf pulled the phone away and stared at the Call Ended screen. Daphnes only cursed when he was truly pissed off. Was he mad at Ganondorf? Or someone else? Ganondorf sat up in bed hoping it was the latter, but a sense of foreboding told him to keep his hopes checked.


	14. Movement Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ganondorf loses one thing and gains another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this update has been a long time coming, and I apologize while also thanking you all for your patience. This isn't a huge chapter, but it's something to keep the story moving and throw in a little sweetness. Please enjoy!

# Take Notes

### Movement Fourteen

Ganondorf drove to his work with the radio off. He stewed in silence and tension as the houses slipped away and were replaced with industrial buildings. The one he worked at was smaller than most of them; a squat, white warehouse. The company trucks shared the same parking lot as the employees, and it was into here that Ganondorf pulled his car. Daphnes was waiting for him by one of the trucks. Ganondorf parked his car, got out, and walked towards his boss with the air of a condemned man surrounding him.

Daphnes was shorter than Ganondorf, with a rounder stomach and white hair. A thick beard and mustache covered the lower half of his aged face. That face was one of fury. Ganondorf’s steps faltered when he saw it, but he continued forward regardless. Perhaps Daphnes wasn’t mad at him, but someone else.

Daphnes was mad at him, and it wasn’t over something as mild as tardiness or a missing package. Ganondorf’s eyes were pulled from Daphnes’s furious expression to the nearby truck. It was Ganondorf’s truck—the one he made most of his deliveries on. A long line of gouges dented the side of the white trailer, revealing the underlying metal. Streaks of red accented the damage.

Daphnes’s anger finally spilled over into words. “What the hell happened?” he shouted at Ganondorf.

Ganondorf tore his eyes away from the gouged truck. “You tell me.”

Daphnes’s lighter skin was turning red around his beard. “Don’t fucking play stupid! I get a call this morning from a guy telling me you sideswiped him and drove off without stopping, and I come out to your truck and find this!” He gestured to the truck. Ganondorf opened his mouth, but Daphnes cut him off. “Don’t tell me you weren’t the last one to use this truck. We keep logs, remember? So don’t lie to me.”

“It wasn’t me,” Ganondorf said regardless, and it was the truth. He was a careful driver, and he would have noticed if he had hit someone. “It wasn’t me.”

Doubt flickered in Daphnes’s eyes, and Ganondorf hoped his boss was thinking back on all of the hard work he had put into the company since starting. It was enough to soften his words when he said, “I’m sorry, Ganondorf, but the evidence is mounted against you. He described your face down to a T.”

Ganondorf wanted to scream in frustration, but he could manage only a cracking voice when he asked, “So what now? Are you going to call the police on me? I’ll swear up and down I didn’t do this.”

“That is one option,” Daphnes said with a nod. “Or…”

“Or?”

Daphnes sighed. “He said he wouldn’t press charges if I fired you.”

Ganondorf took a step back. “What? No, sir—”

“I don’t have much choice,” Daphnes snapped, silencing Ganondorf. “We’re not exactly swimming in profits here, and now I have a truck to repair. I can’t afford a lawsuit. I’m sorry, Ganondorf, but… you’re fired.”

There were too many words on Ganondorf’s tongue. He couldn’t get any of them out. He had half a dozen explanations to prove he wasn’t the one involved in the hit and run, but they all crowded together and confused his thoughts. He instead turned around and, shocked into silence, walked to his car. A few seconds later he was pulling out of the parking lot for the last time. 

#

Where to go? Ganondorf followed the streets and traffic signals, but paid no mind to where he was driving. He could go home, but he was alone there and he knew he would fall much faster into the depression creeping up on him. No, it was better to find people… To find someone who cared…

A turn into an alley brought Ganondorf into a familiar parking lot. He brought his car to a rest by a sleek motorcycle, where he got out and leaned against the car door. Only last night he and Link had shared their first bit of intimate contact, and now here he was—fired once more. A loser again. 

_I’m such a joke,_ Ganondorf thought, and he hid his face in a palm. He raised it again when a thought struck him. If he was a joke, then someone had a twisted sense of humor. Now who did he know who had such tastes?

Link jumped when the backdoor of the shop slammed open. The stack of hardcovers in his arms tipped and fell around his feet. Ganondorf kicked them aside when he drew close. His hands clamped down around Link’s upper arms, and he leaned in close to nearly yell, “What color car does Ghirahim drive?”

Link stared up at him in slight terror. Somewhere beyond the shelves, Zelda called a question.

Ganondorf shook Link a little. _“What color?”_ He shouted it this time, and Link flinched. The blue eyes dropped, and his shoulders hunched.

“Ganondorf!” Zelda shouted from the head of the aisle. She jogged down to them and climbed across the strewn books to take hold of Ganondorf’s left wrist. “You’re hurting him! Stop it!”

Ganondorf jerked his hands away, and Link at once backed up. He tripped over a book and fell hard against a bookcase. It barely wobbled. 

Zelda looked as furious as Daphnes had. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she snapped at Ganondorf. 

“I… I’m sorry,” Ganondorf gasped. He was trembling. “I was just fired. I’m sorry.”

“Fired?” Some of Zelda’s anger melted away into concern. “From your other job?” Ganondorf nodded. “Why?”

“My boss called me in this morning. Someone said I sideswiped them—the truck’s all dented up—but I know that’s impossible. I… I want to know what color car Ghirahim drives. I want to know if it was him!”

Link raised his head as Zelda answered, “It’s black.”

“Black… Not red?” Ganondorf looked between the two of them, and Zelda shook her head. “I was sure… I mean, who else would do this?”

Zelda didn’t have an answer. “Let’s have you take a seat,” she said instead. “Go up to the lounge and relax for a bit, all right?” She ushered him down the aisle with a hand on his back. Ganondorf looked back once to see Link beginning to pick up the fallen books, and a throb of guilt hit him.

Ganondorf spent a half-hour in the quiet employee lounge. Downstairs, the tingle of the front door’s bell sounded several times. Zelda had her hands full with customers, it seemed. Ganondorf lay down on the sofa and closed his eyes against the faint murmurs of conversation. He sat up again when the lounge door opened. Link stepped in, holding a pint of orange juice that he passed to Ganondorf. Ganondorf thanked him, cracked the seal with a twist of the plastic lid, and took a sip. Link nudged aside a controller on the floor with his foot and sunk down onto the carpet. 

“I’m sorry,” Ganondorf repeated. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. My temper got the better of me.”

Link shook his head at the apology to dismiss it. _How are you feeling?_ he signed.

“Like shit,” Ganondorf answered with a hollow laugh. “I don’t know what I’m going to do now. I’m going to have to find another job that pays enough to cover what this job doesn’t, but I have bills due next week, and rent in another week after that...” He trailed off into a troubled silence. 

_Why don’t you work here full time?_ Link suggested. _You’ll be paid more. That will cover your expenses. I’ll ask Zelda about it._

“Link—” It was no use. Link swiftly exited the room with an encouraging smile thrown at Ganondorf, who cursed at his lap once the door closed. In dread, he listened to the pair of footsteps that climbed the steps minutes later. Link reentered the room, this time followed by Zelda. 

“Link tells me you want to go full-time here,” Zelda said after taking a seat in a chair.

Ganondorf tried to keep his irritation in check. “No, I didn’t say that. It was his suggestion.”

“Well I think it’s a good one,” Zelda said. “With Link needing to split his time between instrument repair and the bookshop, I don’t have as much help as I’d like. If one of us gets sick, it’s even worse. I’d love to give you more hours. Hell, I’ll even throw in a raise.”

The words left Ganondorf’s mouth before he could stop them. “I don’t want your charity.”

“Charity?” Zelda repeated with a puzzled expression. “Who said anything about charity? I expect you to work just like anyone else on payroll.”

“But you wouldn’t be doing this for just anyone you hired off of the street,” Ganondorf countered.

“Of course not. You’ve proven yourself a good worker—”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Ganondorf knew he was going to drag Link into the argument at some point. He glanced at him, seated on the floor once more and following the conversation. There was no getting around it. “It’s because me and Link… We’re…” Ganondorf paused. What were they, exactly?

Zelda opened her mouth to speak, but Link straightened up and they both looked to him. His hands moved hesitantly as he signed, _I care about you, Ganondorf. I don’t want to see you kicked out of your place. Please accept the job._

The gently plaintive look on Link’s face… How was Ganondorf supposed to refuse now? He could see Zelda was thinking the same thing. There was the hint of victory in her smile when Ganondorf turned his attention to her and said, “Fine. I’ll take the job.”

Link looked pleased too as Zelda stood up to shake Ganondorf’s hand. He watched her leave the room to collect some paperwork for Ganondorf to sign. When she was clear of the room, Link stood up and kissed Ganondorf. It was a proper kiss this time. His lips were soft and tasted sweet. Ganondorf was taken aback for a moment, but then his hand rose to caress Link’s neck while he reciprocated with enthusiasm. They broke apart at the sound of Zelda’s footsteps beginning to climb the stairs, but Ganondorf’s hand lingered for a moment.

“Promise me,” he whispered, and Link frowned. “If I take this job, you’ll try going to practice with your friends again.”

Zelda was halfway up the stairs. Link glanced in the direction of the door, turned back to Ganondorf, and chewed on his lower lip in a show of anxiety. He had nodded by the time Zelda reached the landing, and Ganondorf felt his second bit of happiness that day.


	15. Movement Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link takes a step in the right direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy this sort of in-between chapter, thank you!

### Movement Fifteen

It was easy for Ganondorf to grow accustomed to working at Band Books full-time. Even when he as a part-timer he had spent much of his free time at the shop, offering his help. Now he was getting paid for it, and there was the added benefit of seeing Link more often.

Zelda was thrilled to have another heavy-lifter in the shop. Link was sometimes reluctant, she had revealed to Ganondorf in a joking voice; as if it was just a symptom of Link’s stubbornness. Ganondorf knew the truth, but he didn’t say anything to Zelda out of respect for Link’s privacy. However, whenever he saw Link put a hand to his chest after hefting a pile of hardcovers, he quietly but sternly offered to take over the job while Link turned his attentions to lighter work.

With Ganondorf taking over the moving of stock, Link was free to spend more time on instrument repair. Bit by bit he caught up on his work, and almost everyday the restored instruments’ notes floated down the stairs. Ganondorf carried down the heavier instruments—their cases added several pounds of weight—but one day he carried one up. Link turned towards the door when Ganondorf entered the music room, and his eyes lit up at the sight of the instrument in the man’s hands. It looked a bit like a guitar with a deep, bowl-shaped body and a crooked neck. 

“Yep, my dad’s oud,” Ganondorf confirmed when Link tossed him a look of question. “I found it in my aunt’s attic. I think it could use a tuning and a bit of spit-shine.”

Link held out his arms, and Ganondorf handed over the oud. He appreciated the reverent way Link held it; the instrument had come halfway across the world. He watched as Link first buffed the oud clean. Grime was wiped away, and dust was blown out. His thin fingers traced the body’s intricate patterns with fascination before he fell to tuning it. 

Ganondorf listened, stilled in his seat, while the discordant twangs were smoothed out into harmonic chords. It was as if Link was breathing new life into the instrument—and in doing so, reawakening Ganondorf’s memories of the father he barely got to know. He found tears growing in his eyes, and they began to fall when Link dropped into a calming melody as if he had been playing the oud all his life. Ganondorf’s sniffles cut the song short, and Link looked up in concern.

“No, no, I’m okay,” Ganondorf assured Link even as he wiped tears from his cheeks.

Link propped the oud gently against his chair before signing, _Are you sure?_

“Yeah,” Ganondorf insisted in slightly stronger voice. “Just got a little emotional. It… It reminded me of my dad. Excuse me...” He stood up and hurried to the bathroom where, behind the privacy of a closed door, he took several minutes to cry out his grief. He was washing his reddened face when he heard the oud’s notes in the air once more. It stirred grief in him again, but not as fiercely as before. This time, Ganondorf was able to appreciate the music. He followed it back to the instrument room where Link turned a smile onto him.

_Good as new,_ the slighter man signed. 

Ganondorf took back the oud with a word of thanks. “What do I owe you?” he asked. Link waved off the question and returned to what he was working on before Ganondorf’s arrival. Ganondorf took his seat again and plucked idly at the oud while Link fitted a new bridge onto a viola. “Wish I knew how to play this thing,” Ganondorf muttered. Link cast him a glance, and he elaborated, “My dad died before he could teach me, and my mother and aunt stored it away not long after. They did put me through piano lessons, though, and I got pretty good at it before football pulled my interest away.”

The smile on Link’s profile told Ganondorf he was pleasantly surprised by this revelation. Once the viola’s bridge was braced enough for him to pull his hands away, Link turned in his chair and signed, _The next time you’re at my place you should show me what you remember. I want to hear you play._

“No, you don’t,” Ganondorf said with a laugh. “I don’t remember anything.”

_I’m sure you remember something,_ Link insisted with another smile. Before Ganondorf could once more argue otherwise, Link’s hands moved again. _Let’s make a deal. If I can help you remember how to play the piano, I’ll go to the next orchestra practice._

Ganondorf’s eyebrows shot up. “Tempting,” he remarked. “But wasn’t a promise to go to practice my ultimatum to you before taking the full-time position?”

Link’s eyes rolled up and his shoulders shrugged in a playful gesture of forgetfulness. 

Ganondorf laughed despite himself. “I’m serious. Text your friend—Groose, was it? Ask him when the next practice is.”

Link fidgeted in place, but he was saved from having to acknowledge the suggestion by Zelda, who arrived with lunch. The three of them ate together in the lounge. Link allowed Ganondorf and Zelda to chatter on without his input, as his hands were busy with his lunch and his phone. The chirp of an arrived text message drew the others’ eyes, however.

“Who’s texting you?” Zelda probed. Link’s cheeks reddened a bit, but instead of signing an answer he tossed the phone to his sister. She caught it with practiced ease and looked at the message Link had opened. Her brow creased with a faint frown line, and she pressed her lips together. “Link, I don’t think this is wise.”

Ganondorf feigned ignorance. “What is it?” he asked, and he looked between her and Link with a curious expression. Already, Link was looking defeated.

Zelda’s frown deepened before she answered, “Link wants to go to practice tonight.”

“It’s tonight?” Ganondorf blurted out, and Zelda shot him a sharp look. “I mean… Kinda short notice isn’t it? Are you going?” he directed this last at Link.

“No!” Zelda answered at the same time that Link nodded. Her eyes snapped to him next. “Link!”

Link fixed a stubborn glare on his face. _I’m going,_ he signed. _I want to go. I miss my friends._

“You can see them anytime outside of practice!” Zelda argued. “Don’t you get it, Link? If you willingly put yourself within reach of Ghirahim, any argument we may put forth in court would be weaker—Hey!” Link had stood up at the mention of ‘court.’ He stormed out of the room, avoiding Zelda’s reaching hand along the way. The music room door slammed shut seconds later.

Zelda caught the look Ganondorf cast her, and she challenged, “What?”

“He really wants to go,” Ganondorf pressed. 

“I know that!” Zelda fell to brooding over the situation. Ganondorf kept himself occupied with continuing his lunch until Zelda stood up. She still had Link’s cellphone in-hand, and she tapped it lightly against her open palm. “I’ve got it,” she spoke up with sudden inspiration. “Doctor Malon will set him straight.” She headed for the music room, and Ganondorf followed out of curiosity. 

Link was shuffling together some music sheets. The papers stilled when Zelda walked into the room wearing a faint look of triumph. “Here’s the deal,” she said when Link looked to her; Ganondorf sidled into the room. “If Doctor Malon agrees with the idea, then I’ll let you go—with supervision, of course. I wouldn’t hold my breath, though. She’s paid to put your well-being first, after all.” 

Link’s mouth pressed into a thin line when Zelda pulled up the phone number in the phone’s contact list. She put it on speaker for her brother’s benefit, and the phone rang twice before a female voice spoke up, “Hello, you’ve reached Doctor Malon’s office. How may I help you?”

“Sonja, put Doctor Malon on, would you?” Zelda asked.

“Right away, Miss Hyrule.” The line switched over to holding music, but only for a short while before a second, different female voice interrupted it. 

“This is Doctor Malon.”

“Hello, Malon,” Zelda greeted in a bright voice, and the doctor returned her greeting. “I’m calling about Link. I wonder if I could ask you something?”

“Yes, of course, Zelda,” Malon answered. It was clear to Ganondorf that the two women knew each other well, but whether that was through Link or not he didn’t bother to ask. Link was staring at the phone with a look of trepidation.

“Link wants to go to another practice tonight,” Zelda began. “You remember how the last one went, right?”

“Yes, Link told me all about it.”

“Well I don’t think it’s a good idea to subject him to that again,” Zelda continued. “I don’t think he should be putting himself in harm’s way, either, but he won’t listen to me.”

“So you want me to give him my opinion?” Malon guessed, and Zelda confirmed this. “I think it’s a good idea.”

Zelda nearly dropped the phone in surprise. She had to tighten her hand to keep a hold of it, and the volume was nudged up a notch as a result. Malon’s reasoning rang out loud and clear.

“Link, we’ve spoken before about taking steps,” Malon said. Somehow she knew Link was within the room. “Even small steps forward take tremendous courage, and I know you have that courage within you. Going to practice— _wanting_ to go to practice—isn’t just a small step. It’s a large leap, and I fully support it so long as you don’t place yourself in a position where you might be hurt. If that means going to practice with Zelda, or surrounding yourself with the support of your friends… So long as you’re careful, I see no reason not to go.”

Zelda’s plan was thwarted, and no one was happier than Link. He was all smiles when Zelda hung up the phone with a curt goodbye. She quelled some of his enthusiasm when she pointed a finger at him. “You will eat a full meal before we go tonight, do you understand? And both Ganondorf and I are going with you—if that’s okay,” she added with a quick look to Ganondorf.

Ganondorf nodded. “No problem. I’m the one who encouraged him, after all.”

Zelda’s eyes narrowed when her suspicions were confirmed, but she melted when Link stepped forward and hugged her. She cast a look of defeat at Ganondorf and asked, “Are you coming over for dinner then?”

“I’d love to,” Ganondorf answered, and Link smiled at him from within the crook of Zelda’s arm.


	16. Movement Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link attempts to attend practice again, but things go terribly wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's an update!!!! Please enjoy, although beware this chapter may be triggering.

### Movement Sixteen

It was strange how, despite visiting only a handful of times, Ganondorf had come to think of the Hyrule mansion as a second home. Even when it wasn’t filled to the brim with guests it exuded a warm feeling. Walking into the house with Impa chattering at his side, Ganondorf found that warmth compounded by the sound of soft piano music floating out from a side room. He followed it and found Link was the one behind the notes. He looked far happier at the piano than the last time, during Zelda’s party. When he saw Ganondorf in the corner of his eye, he ceased playing and cast the man a smile.

“Room for two?” Ganondorf asked. Link shifted down the bench and patted the spot that had opened up to his right. Ganondorf took it; his thigh pressed against Link’s. “Right, so… Where’s the on switch?”

Link shook his head in amusement and guided Ganondorf’s hands onto the keys. His thin, paler fingers looked insignificant atop Ganondorf’s larger set, yet their movements were sure. Ganondorf followed them through a slow scale up and down the keys. There was a sense of familiarity both in the movements and positions of the keys, and the touch of another’s hands to his own. Ganondorf’s fingers slipped out from beneath Link’s when muscle memory began to kick in. With it came recollections of his piano lessons, and piecemeal chords and bars of music began to slip out from under Ganondorf’s fingers.

The music stopped only when Impa’s voice cut across it, calling the two young men into the dining room for dinner. Ganondorf called back an acknowledgment before he turned his attention back to Link. “Thanks for the quick refresher. I definitely want to get back into this, if you don’t mind teaching me.”

Link’s nod and smile spoke his agreement plainly. The kiss he pressed to Ganondorf’s lips spoke a lot more. Before Ganondorf could savor it, Link had pulled away. He grinned at Ganondorf’s look of slight shock before he got up from the bench and left for the dining room.

#

The murmur of voices and random notes played on the other side of the curtain. Link often glanced towards the sounds while he assembled his oboe. No one knew he was here yet. Surprising them the first time had been fun, and he wanted to do it again while the novelty of his return to practice was still fresh. 

Nearby, Ganondorf was walking along the edge of the practice room and studying the framed photographs on the wall. Zelda had gone to the bathroom, leaving the two of them alone. With Ganondorf’s focus elsewhere, Link was reminded of his handicap. He couldn’t just call across the room. His hands were clever enough to form words, but they were as silent as his voice. 

Ganondorf heard a clatter and turned to see Link had lowered the open oboe case to the floor. He tucked as much of it as he could under his chair before standing up. His fingers fluttered up and down the oboe’s length. “Feeling nervous?” Ganondorf guessed, and Link looked to him. “I thought you were excited to see them again.”

Link was, but his doubts were starting to creep in. Still, he put his oboe down to sign, _I’m fine. I’m going onstage in just a minute, so you can head out._

“I’ll walk you--” Ganondorf began, but the same hands that had reassured him now ushered him out into the hall. Ganondorf understood that Link didn’t want him to worry. Chuckling, he made a show of parting from the musician, and Link rolled his eyes before he shut the door between them.

With his back against the door, Link took a moment to suck in a deep breath and release it. He felt a bit better already without Ganondorf fretting over him, but he was still a little jumpy. He cast around the room, looking for something to calm his nerves, and his eyes landed on an upright piano set against the wall to the left of the backdoor through which he, Zelda, and Ganondorf had entered. Link crossed the room to it and rolled out the bench. The smooth, cool keys soothed his fluttery fingers. He began to pluck out a soft, slow song that wouldn’t carry to the stage. Focused on his music, he didn’t hear the backdoor open and close. It wasn’t until he felt the delayed brush of the cool night air on his cheek did he realize he wasn’t in the room alone anymore.

A pair of thin hands fell onto Link’s shoulders. “I wasn’t expecting you to come back.”

Link’s song broke off on an abrupt note. He made to rise, but the hands pushed him back down onto the bench. His upper back was pulled flush against another’s lower body.

“Keep playing,” Ghirahim ordered. His voice had the edge of a threat to it; an edge that was softened by his next words. “You know how much I love to hear you play the piano.”

Link’s hands were shaking once more. Regardless, he pushed past his nerves and picked up the song. Ghirahim made a pleased sound, and his hands began to work out the tension in Link’s shoulders. “I’m so glad to see you back here,” he said while his hands massaged. “I was afraid your performance the last time would deter you from ever coming back. I hope you’ll excuse the way I acted as well, but you must know I was only disappointed that you weren’t at your best. By being hard on you, I was trying to help you. Do you understand?”

Link’s shoulders shifted in a small shrug, and Ghirahim continued, “I don’t want you to embarrass yourself. I’m only looking out for you. Have you practiced at all since last time?” When Link shook his head, Ghirahim remarked in a derisive tone, “I suppose not. You’ve been too busy with your new extracurricular activities, after all.” 

Link frowned, but the explanation behind Ghirahim’s anger came into focus before his eyes when the man held up a dark red hair he had plucked from Link’s shirt. It was left to fall, slipping out of sight into the shadows under the piano. The hand returned to Link’s shoulder and gripped tighter. 

“I must say I’m concerned,” Ghirahim said. “He looks like a brute. Has he hurt you at all? You can tell me. It’ll be our secret.”

Link had ceased playing. His thoughts were racing back to the handful of times when Ganondorf’s anger had gotten the better of him. Still… Link knew Ganondorf was struggling with lingering issues from his own abusive relationship. He was working on it, but yes there had been times when the anger had broken through.

Ghirahim read some of these thoughts in Link’s tense body. “It’s not right, you know, for you to hang around him if he’s going to hurt you like that. You don’t deserve that, and he doesn’t deserve you. I’m the only one you should be devoting yourself to—or have you forgotten who’s helped get you this far?”

The loving attentions and soft voice were gone. Now Ghirahim braced a knee on the bench to the left of Link, and pressed his chest down. Link was forced to bow over. He could feel something stiff pressing against his back. At the sound of a belt unbuckling, he closed his eyes and braced for his belt to be loosened next. 

But it appeared Ghirahim was either wary of being interrupted, or he only wanted to set an example. He was content with rutting against Link’s tense body while the younger musician fought back tears. If only he could raise a voice in protest… but it was hard enough keeping himself seated. His legs, braced against the motions, began to first ache and then grow numb.

“I can smell him on you,” Ghirahim huffed, his tone one of revulsion. “I bet the two of you fucked like rabbits before coming here.”

Link didn’t bother refuting him. He could feel that Ghirahim was close. It was almost over.

“You never learn,” Ghirahim grunted. An overenthusiastic thrust of his hips sent Link falling off the bench. His numb legs folded under him, and he barely got a hand out in time to stop his head from bashing against the piano keys. A discordant chord rang out from beneath his clutching fingers. It was still resonating when Ghirahim seized Link’s head by his beanie. The fingers clutched at the underlying hair—it was getting long again; the random observation cut across Link’s frozen mind. Then his head was yanked back and with a satisfied sound Ghirahim pushed his cock up beneath the beanie and came. His hand worked the beanie up and down his cock, teasing out every string of cum into Link’s hair until he pushed Link away as if in disgust.

Ghirahim hummed while he put his clothes back into order. Beneath the piano, Link sniffled. “Stop acting like a child,” Ghirahim snapped down at him. “I didn’t hurt you. Now get up off the floor and onto that stage in two minutes, or we’ll start without you.”

Link only gained his feet when he knew Ghirahim had walked away. His legs warmed up with a strange tingling sensation when he put his weight on them. He braced a hand against the piano while he calmed his breathing. His free hand pushed up under his beanie, encountered warm stickiness, and was withdrawn. He could smell Ghirahim on him. It made his heart skip in panic when he heard the hallway door open. 

Ganondorf had returned to the room with a concerned look on his face. “You didn’t come out on stage,” he said once he was clear of the closing door. “Zelda’s worried—Link, what are you doing on the floor?”

Alarm rang clear in Ganondorf’s voice. Link had only seconds to respond. Fortunately, an answer lay before him. He wiped his hand clean on the inside of his pants cuff before reaching forward and plucking up a coin from the dusty floor beneath the piano. A red strand of hair was disturbed in the passing wake of his hand, and Link was reminded of his lie that had sent Ganondorf out of the room. Now he was about to lie again.

Ganondorf paused when Link stood up and turned around with a small, sheepish smile. He lifted a penny into view before pocketing it. _My lucky penny rolled away,_ he signed.

“Why do you look like you’re crying?” Ganondorf asked next.

Link had a ready lie for that, too. He mimed knocking himself over the head before pointing at the piano. _I knocked my head on the keys._

Ganondorf hurried to Link, asking, “Are you all right? Is it bleeding?” He reached out in concern.

Link pulled back in a sudden fearful motion, and his hand shot up to clamp down atop his beanie. It was an instinctual reaction, and he regretted it at once when he saw the way Ganondorf’s brow furrowed in suspicion. 

“Did something happen?” Ganondorf asked in a low voice. 

If Link told him, Ganondorf would only blame himself. But he could no longer hide that something was wrong. _I want to go home,_ he instead signed. _This was a bad idea._

Ganondorf didn’t press him for details. “Okay,” he agreed. “I’ll call Zelda and tell her we’ll be waiting at the car. Come on.”

Ganondorf gathered up Link’s oboe and its case, and they walked out into the parking lot together in silence. Link had an extra set of keys that unlocked the doors, and they climbed into the backseat together on an unspoken agreement. Link took his oboe apart and stowed it away while Ganondorf shot a quick call to Zelda, who was still waiting for them in the auditorium. With the call over and the oboe case closed, the two young men sat together in the quiet car. 

Link kept his eyes on the window; his body turned away from Ganondorf beneath his seat belt. Ganondorf studied him and wondered what he had done to upset the musician. His eyes swept up the stiff back and hunched shoulders, and his gaze caught on something at the nape of Link’s neck. The beanie blocked most of it out of sight, but there was enough evidence for Ganondorf to put together a terrible scenario in his head. 

Zelda’s arrival to the car prevented Ganondorf from asking anything of Link. He forced a smile to his face when Zelda looked back at him in question, and he explained, “Bad case of the nerves.” She accepted the answer with a nod and a reassuring word to Link. As she navigated the car out of the parking lot, Ganondorf slipped his hand across the short distance to Link and took hold of his trembling hand. He was glad to feel the fingers squeeze back.


	17. Movement Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of the disastrous music practice Ganondorf does his best to show Link how much he cares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for hanging in there. Please enjoy!

### Movement Seventeen

The hiss of the shower had droned on for over twenty minutes now. Ganondorf sat on the edge of Link’s bed and stared at the closed door of the adjoining bathroom with concern shadowing his face. In his lap Gengle purred reassurance, and Ganondorf stroked the cat to avoid wringing his hands together. It was hard to believe the warm cat had once been frozen and on the verge of death. 

_Link is just as resilient,_ Ganondorf thought. But on the heels of this he recalled Link’s caginess around Zelda upon returning home; his refusal to let her see him hurting; the easy way he lied. Ganondorf had followed him to his room and watched how the tension returned to his body with each step climbed. Link hadn’t refused Ganondorf’s concern, but he hadn’t been willing to explain anything either. He had simply grabbed clean clothes and vanished into the bathroom.

That was nearly half an hour ago, and now Ganondorf raised his eyes from Gengle when he heard the shower cut out. He listened to the faint sounds of Link knocking around in the bathroom, and his hands moved faster over Gengle. The cat eventually hopped out of his lap, stretched its back legs, and curled up atop Link’s pillow.

Link emerged from the bathroom with the bundle of dirty clothes in his hands. They were tossed into a hamper save for his beanie; that was thrown forcefully into a small trashcan by the desk. Link kicked the trashcan for good measure before he crossed to his bed and plopped face-first onto it. Gengle gained his feet, startled, but a click of Link’s tongue soothed the cat and brought him within reach of a scratching finger.

“I’m sorry,” Ganondorf blurted out. Link turned a frown onto him and sat up. “I shouldn’t have left you alone while we were there. Zelda even warned me and still I--” He was cut off when Link’s hand fell on his shoulder. 

Once he had Ganondorf’s attention Link signed, _It’s my fault. I pushed you out of the room. I didn’t want you to see how nervous I was._

“Did he hit you?” Ganondorf asked. He studied what skin was exposed around Link’s clothes, but a shake of Link’s head stopped him. “When I see him again I’m going to kill him, but not before I rip off his--”

Again, Ganondorf was cut off by Link’s touch. Both hands fell against his cheeks, and Link shook his head. The look on his face begged Ganondorf to calm down. _You’re better than him,_ Link signed after pulling his hands away. 

Ganondorf dropped his eyes to his lap. “No, I’m not,” he whispered. “I couldn’t protect you, and because of me you were hurt—and not for the first time. I may as well have been the one to assault you.”

Link looked away, and Ganondorf fell silent. In the stillness that followed, Gengle nudged his way into Link’s lap, curled up, and picked up his purring. Link looked down to pet the cat, and Ganondorf sneaked a look at the back of his neck. Beneath the blonde hairline he could see the red lines in Link’s skin that had been left behind by his scrubbing fingers. The skin had broken along a few such lines, revealing pinpricks of red smaller than the point of a needle. The sight of it was enough to encourage Ganondorf’s hand to fall against the agitated skin in concern.

At his touch, Link raised his head in a sudden motion and his body jerked with tension. Gengle jumped out of his lap and left the room; two disruptions were apparently the cat’s limit. Ganondorf’s hand had already pulled away, and he met Link’s frightened eyes with a silent look of apology. A beat of uneasiness passed before Ganondorf lowered his hand again. He kept his palm light upon Link’s head while his fingers combed up through the damp hair. What few tangles that existed were undone by Ganondorf’s careful hand. He smoothed out the hair once he was done and leaned in to kiss Link’s lips. He was glad to find Link was willing. 

“Just wanted to return the favor,” Ganondorf said, and he watched Link’s mouth quirk up in a small smile. “I should head out, though. You need rest. I’m sorry again. This was all my--”

A more vehement shake of Link’s head stopped Ganondorf. It looked as if he wanted to argue the point further, but he instead signed, _See you at work._

“Right,” Ganondorf murmured. “Take it easy then, okay?” 

Link nodded this time, and Ganondorf left the room. He knew his way around well enough by now to make it to the front door alone, but there he found Zelda waiting in a chair by a corner bookcase. She stood up as Ganondorf descended the last few steps. 

“Mind telling me what really happened tonight?” she asked in a quiet voice. “Don’t bother lying,” she added before Ganondorf could open his mouth. “If living with a mute has taught me anything it’s how to read lies in people’s faces. Link might be able to still hide things from me, but one look at you tells me something bad happened tonight.”

Her piercing blue gaze cut right through Ganondorf. He wanted nothing more than to slink out of the mansion and escape into his car. Instead, he found himself saying, “I didn’t protect him. He pushed me out of the room—said he would be onstage in just a minute—and I let him do it. Ghirahim got to him.”

Zelda’s eyes widened. “Is he hurt?” she rushed out.

“No, not physically,” Ganondorf reassured her. It was a stupid thing to say, and he winced. “I mean, Link’s fine. He’s strong. Ghirahim just got into his head again, that’s all.” 

It was a terribly mild way of putting things, and Ganondorf hated the way he had to phrase it. But he knew the true details would only drive Zelda up to Link’s room and the rift between brother and sister would reopen once again. Ganondorf didn’t want that to happen. He knew Link needed support more than he needed chastising. In hopes of calming Zelda’s mounting anger, he said, “I promise I’ll never leave him alone like that again. I won’t let him fool me like that, whether he likes it or not.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Zelda assured Ganondorf in clipped tones. “He’s never going to practice again.”

#

Ganondorf arrived at work the next day to find Zelda stewing in a cloud of anger behind the counter. His ears instinctively tuned in to the rest of the shop, but there was neither angry classical music streaming down the stairs nor the sound of someone else moving among the shelves. 

“Link’s not here,” Zelda confirmed when she caught Ganondorf’s questioning look. Her words were forced out between tight lips. “I woke up this morning to the sound of him gunning that damn bike of his out of the garage. He hasn’t shown up, or returned any of my texts...” She reached for her phone, which lay by her keyboard. Ganondorf had a feeling she had been checking it all morning. “I called Dr. Malon, but she hasn’t heard from him either.”

“You’re fighting again,” Ganondorf guessed, and he sighed heavily.

Zelda’s brow furrowed while she typed out another text. “I told him he’s no longer allowed to go to practice. He didn’t take it well.”

“His friends are there,” Ganondorf attempted to argue.

Zelda’s eyes snapped up from her phone with sudden ferocity. “He can see them anytime he wants outside of practice. He has their numbers.” She returned to her angry texting; punching at the screen with each finger.

Ganondorf knew there would be no calming Zelda down until Link was found, and he didn’t want to spend a tense day with her. “Let me go look for him,” Ganondorf offered. “I’ll drive around town and see if I can spot his bike anywhere.”

“That’s not necessary,” Zelda snapped. “If he doesn’t want to work, then he doesn’t get paid. His irresponsibility isn’t your responsibility.”

“Zelda, I don’t mind,” Ganondorf assured her. “I’m worried about him too.”

Zelda’s fingers paused for a second before resuming at a slower pace. “Fine,” she muttered. “Go. Text me if you find him.”

There was no ‘if’ about it. Ganondorf felt he knew exactly where Link had gone. Once he was in his car and on the road, he bypassed all of the turns that would take him deeper into the city and instead headed out towards the open country. He had a good memory, and the route was simple enough. Upon pulling into the Lon Lon Ranch parking lot, he was rewarded with the sight of Link’s motorcycle sitting among the workers’ cars. 

Ganondorf parked in the visitor area, got out of his car, and paused to scan what he could see of the property. There were a few volunteers near the paddocks supervising a small group of children, but none of the adults were Link. Ganondorf set off in search of someone less occupied, hoping they knew where Link could be found.

“Oh yeah, he’s here,” an intern revealed when Ganondorf asked her if she had seen Link at all. “He took one of the horses out on the trail just a little bit ago. It wraps around the edge of the property. If you walk it from that end you should run into him soon enough.” She pointed to the end of the trail: a path cut into the shallow woods that bordered half of the ranch. Ganondorf thanked her before departing for the trail. He jogged across the field, but slowed to a walk once he had stepped into the trees’ shadows. He didn’t want to spook any horse Link was likely riding. 

The trail curved gently for the most part, with only the occasional blind turn when it deviated around difficult terrain or across a low bridge. It was on the other side of such a turn where Ganondorf came across Link. He was seated on the edge of a bridge with his bare feet soaking in the stream that ran beneath. The black horse that Ganondorf had once rode was standing nearby. When Link looked up at the sound of footsteps, his face showed the vestiges of a panic attack. 

“Shit…” Ganondorf hurried to Link’s side. It was hard to resist the urge to wrap him up in his arms. He settled for putting a hand on Link’s shoulder, but that was shrugged off. Link glared at the stream through red-rimmed eyes. His set frown still trembled in the wake of his panic, but the anger wasn’t directed at Ganondorf. 

Ganondorf took a seat by Link, leaving room for him to breathe, and rested his arms on his folded legs. “Zelda and I were worried about you, so I decided to come find you. I figured you would be here. I’m glad to see you’re not hurt. I mean—” He stopped, sighing. “That you’re in one piece.”

Link half-turned so that he could sign, _I’m fine._

“You’re not,” Ganondorf countered. “Don’t lie to me, and don’t lie to yourself. Honestly I’d be more concerned for you if you really were fine.”

_You’re right,_ Link signed. _I’m not fine. I’m a mess. Go back to work. You don’t have to stay here with me. I’m not worth it._ He turned forward again and fixed his eyes on the stream. 

“Link…” Ganondorf studied the scratches on the back of Link’s neck, and he felt his hands tighten into fists. He forced himself to relax before speaking. “Listen, I wouldn’t have drove all the way out here if I didn’t think you were worth it. You think I’m out here on Zelda’s wishes? It was my idea to come find you. I care about you – a lot – and nothing Ghirahim does or says will ever change that. He hasn’t soiled you, or broken you. I look at you and I see a wonderful, perfect person who’s stronger than I ever will be – and I’m not just saying that to make you feel better. Whether you believe me or not is up to you, but it is the truth.”

Link’s head didn’t turn, and his hands remained still. Was any of this getting through to him? Ganondorf thought back on his experiences in therapy and remembered how reluctant he had been to believe his doctor’s words. A sense of worthlessness had pervaded him, and no amount of reassurance alleviated it until he, finally, decided to give himself a chance. At the time Ganondorf had had only his mother and aunt on his side, but Link had a larger network of support – and Ganondorf wanted to be a part of that. He knew things had moved past the point of mere friendship between the two of them. It was time to act on that and to show Link he truly cared. 

First, however, he had to get the other man’s attention. Link’s eyes were fixated on the stream, so Ganondorf decided to place himself at the center of focus. He shucked off his shoes and socks, rolled up his pants, and walked around the bridge to the stream’s bank where he waded in. The water reached halfway up his calves, and he gasped when its cold embrace sent shivers up through his body. 

Link watched him wade closer with curiosity and confusion in his eyes. He tensed a little when Ganondorf stopped in front of him – the low bridge did nothing for their height difference – but he didn’t move from his seat. His hands rose to sign, _What are you doing?_

“Freezing,” Ganondorf answered, and the first hint of a smile touched Link’s lips. “I don’t mind. I’d do anything for you. Link… I…” He swallowed. “Aw hell – I love you, okay? I’ve fallen in love with you, and I want you to know I’ll always be there for as long as you want me to be. To me you’re perfect and you’re worth it, and I hope one day you’ll see that for yourself. Until that day, I’ll keep reminding you.”

The confusion in Link’s eyes persisted for a few more moments before realization slowly took its place. It was followed by fresh tears, and Link dropped his head to hide them. Ganondorf waited in silence, feeling his feet growing numb but standing still so as to not distract from whatever thoughts were going through Link’s head. In the silence, birds chirped and the horse chuffed.

Link lifted his head and moved his hand in the first sign he had ever given Ganondorf. _Thank you._

Ganondorf wasn’t foolish enough to believe Link would voice the same feelings in return at that moment. If such feelings existed, Link would express them when he was ready. It was enough for him to see a full smile return to Link’s lips. It helped to abolish some of the remaining strain in his face. “Hey,” Ganondorf spoke up, “why don’t we get out of here and grab a bite to eat somewhere? You look like you could use some food, and I definitely can. Let me treat you.”

Link agreed with a nod and pulled his feet out of the water. Ganondorf hoisted himself up over the side of the bridge, wiped most of the water from his legs and feet, and put his shoes back on. Link was saddled and ready by the time he was done. They walked back in a companionable silence.

After seeing to the horse and signing out, Link joined Ganondorf at the parking lot. They took a few minutes to decide on a place to eat – a shopping plaza in town with an outdoor food court – before leaving. Link led the way on his motorcycle, allowing Ganondorf to squeeze in a text to Zelda unseen while they waited at a long stoplight halfway through the drive. 

**Found Link at the ranch. We’re grabbing some food. Everything’s OK.**

Zelda hadn’t answered back by the time they arrived at the plaza. Perhaps she was still angry, or perhaps she didn’t want to pry. Ganondorf hoped it was simply the latter.

The shopping plaza was divided into two levels with the food court taking up most of the lower level. Ganondorf and Link descended to it and snagged a table at a pub-style restaurant tucked into a corner. It was only after they had ordered that Ganondorf pawed at his hips. “Damn,” he grumbled, and Link looked up from his drink with a concerned frown. “It’s nothing,” Ganondorf assured him. “I left my wallet behind in my car. Be right back.”

Link nodded and watched him leave before falling to studying the people who passed through the food court. He didn’t register how long Ganondorf was gone until he felt something drop down on his head. It startled him badly, and he nearly spilled his drink. 

“Sorry!” Ganondorf rushed out before taking his seat, but he was grinning. Link pulled the object off of his head. It was a new green beanie, a little darker than his previous one. He cast a questioning look across the table, and Ganondorf jabbed a thumb up at a shop on the first level. “I saw it and thought it would suit you. Do you like it?”

In answer, Link playfully pulled the beanie down over his head until the brim covered his eyes. He pushed it back up with a smile and repeated his earlier sign. _Thank you._ Ganondorf returned the smile tenfold.


	18. Movement Eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kisses and butt sparkles.

### Movement Eighteen

Ganondorf’s confession at the ranch had opened up a gate. It was official now. He and Link were dating. 

Neither one had gone steady with anyone new since their respective abusive exes, but fortunately the transition into “couple mode”, as Ganondorf fondly put it, was smooth. He and Link had already spent plenty of time together; learning about each other; opening up to one another. There was simply an extra emphasis on everything now. Their meals together, or trips to Lon Lon Ranch, carried more weight. 

Outside of work at the bookshop and volunteer duties, the two men carved out time a few evenings a week for proper dates. Link introduced Ganondorf to upscale dining spots, and in return Ganondorf showed Link the curious sides of the city he had missed from his years spent at work or holed up at home.

The physical aspect of their relationship wasn’t as easy to pull off. Often, holding hands or a kiss in goodbye were all that passed between them, if anything at all. Ganondorf took his cues from Link’s mood, which he learned how to interpret in much the same way he had learned sign language. If Link was in a good mood, Ganondorf was bold enough to initiate. But if Link was having a bad day, he allowed the slighter man to lead any advances. 

Still, Ganondorf’s impatience or temper occasionally got the better of him when Link was more difficult than normal, especially as their weeks together turned into months. But he recognized the behavior, and when his insurance kicked in after three months in his new position he set up a weekly appointment with his old therapist. The appointments helped him to regain focus and calm. Link picked up on the change, and over time he in turn grew more comfortable and trusting when he was with Ganondorf. He no longer cringed if Ganondorf happened to speak too loudly, and his shoulders didn’t tense anymore when the other man unexpectedly touched him.

However, there was one habit of Link’s that worried Ganondorf. Often when the two of them left a building together, Link would cast almost a panicked look around and draw closer to Ganondorf in fear. He never offered an explanation, but the behavior was fleeting so Ganondorf simply chalked it up to lingering fears of Ghirahim stalking Link. Ganondorf reassured Link at these times and reminded him of whose muscled arm he was currently hanging on. It always worked to wipe away the momentary panic.

The relationship shifted into more serious territory one night when Ganondorf and Link decided to see a minor league baseball game in the city over, only to have it rained out not long into the third inning. They ran back to the car with Ganondorf laughing and Link grinning beneath a sopping beanie. The traffic leading out of the parking lot was thick, and it took a while to get out onto open highway. By then the storm had intensified, and visibility was poor. Link drove with his hands clamped on the steering wheel, and his jaw tense. 

Another car passed Link at one point, kicking up rainwater, and crossed back over in front of him with barely room to spare. Link braked and tensed in his seat, but the car was already gone; vanished ahead behind the rainfall. “Asshole,” Ganondorf grumbled. Link’s furrowed brow showed he agreed with the sentiment.

The car made a reappearance seconds later in the form of a pair of glaring brake lights. Link slammed the brakes this time, and the car skidded across the wet road. The brake lights grew closer, bathing the car interior in red.

Ganondorf reached across the center console, took hold of the wheel, and yanked it to the right. They missed the braking car by inches and thudded onto the shoulder. The gravel there gave the car the traction it needed to stop. Link sat in place, his stiff arms trembling and his foot heavy on the brake. 

“We’re okay,” Ganondorf said. He took the opportunity to shift the car into park and turn on the caution lights. “Link, you can let up on the brake now.”

It took the words a few seconds to register in Link’s ears. He dropped his hands from the wheel, eased off of the brake, and relaxed against his seat with a shaky exhale. Ganondorf allowed him a minute to gather himself before he broke the silence. “I guess this will teach us to check the weather first before we go out. Are you all right?”

Link nodded. _You saved us,_ he signed, and he smiled.

“I didn’t even think about what I was doing, to be honest,” Ganondorf downplayed. “It was probably a terrible idea in hindsight. We could have just as easily smashed into the guardrail, or another car—” He was cut off by Link’s lips when they met his in a grateful kiss. The kiss was long, damp from the rain that still clung to them, and it brought with it the first significant contact of tongue. 

A crack of thunder startled the men out of the moment. Link pulled back with a blush spread across his pale cheeks and a shy smile playing at his lips. Ganondorf was still reeling in the kiss’s wake when they merged back into traffic. He found himself smiling as well on the ride back to the Hyrule mansion. 

Zelda greeted them in the kitchen when they entered it from the garage. “You look like drowned puppies,” she remarked before tossing them the towels she had ready. They were warm from the dryer. Ganondorf pressed his face into one and said a muffled word of thanks. 

“You should really learn to check the weather before going out,” Zelda chided. Hearing her unknowingly repeat Ganondorf’s earlier remark had the men passing a look between each other. Ganondorf raised an eyebrow in question, and Link subtly shook his head. Ganondorf agreed. It was best not to worry Zelda.

The kiss lingered on Ganondorf’s lips long after he had returned home and gone to bed. It left him wanting more—a feeling that persisted into the morning. It made working with Link a little difficult. Whenever they passed each other in an aisle Ganondorf felt the space between them roil with his checked passion. Going by the look on Link’s face at these times, he could feel it too.

At one point later in the day Ganondorf entered the storeroom to put away a box of newly arrived books and found Link was already inside. He was taking inventory, but he paused and looked up from his clipboard when Ganondorf entered the room. “Hope this doesn’t mess up your counts,” Ganondorf said with an apologetic smile.

Link shook his head and directed Ganondorf to an empty shelf with a wave of his hand. The books were unpacked and arranged; Ganondorf felt Link’s eyes on him the whole time. When he stood up and turned around, he found Link staring at him with his pen resting against his lips. Link smiled when Ganondorf raised a questioning eyebrow, and he flipped the clipboard towards him. On the back of the inventory sheet was a quick sketch of Ganondorf bent over. His butt was exaggerated in size with sparkles all around it. 

“You flatter me,” Ganondorf remarked, and amusement lit up Link’s face. “It’s wonderful work, Link. I think we should hang it up on the shop’s community board so everyone can appreciate my fine ass. Zelda’s certain to love it, I bet.”

The clipboard was playfully tugged from Link’s grip, and Ganondorf used his height advantage to hold it high out of reach. Link jumped for it nonetheless, prompting laughter from Ganondorf. “You want it back that bad?” he asked, and Link nodded. “Well, I might be persuaded to give it back for something in return. Is a kiss a fair trade?”

Link stopped reaching, put his hands on his lips, and rolled his eyes. But he crooked a finger at Ganondorf, who bent down to receive his payment. The kiss was shorter than last night, but just as sweet. Ganondorf felt bold enough to nibble on Link’s bottom lip, and he felt the man smile against his lips before they broke apart.

The clipboard was handed over as promised, and Link flipped the paper front again to continue his count. Ganondorf took his time flattening the box he had emptied. The playful bargain just now had reminded him of something. “So have you thought more about going back to practice with your friends like you promised me?”

The stiffening of Link’s shoulders answered the question well enough, and Ganondorf couldn’t mask the disappointment in his voice when he continued, “I know it’s scary to think about, but I think Dr. Malon was right back then—it’s a courageous step, and one you need. And I swear to you—I _promise_ you—this time I won’t let Ghirahim hurt you.”

Link stared at a shelf, chewing on his bottom lip. He eventually secured the clipboard under his arm so as to sign, _I’ll talk to Zelda about it tonight._ He paused, thinking, before asking, _Will you come to dinner tonight?_

“Of course,” Ganondorf said, nodding.

Link relaxed. _Thank you,_ he signed. He stood up on his tiptoes and pecked Ganondorf on the lips. 

It left Ganondorf feeling warmer inside. “Keep that up, and I’ll start demanding to be paid in kisses.”

_Consider it a bonus for all your hard work,_ Link returned.

“Hey, if you want me to work _hard_ you need only ask,” Ganondorf said with a thrust of his hips. 

Link offered a muted scoff in reply, but he couldn’t hide the smile on his lips before he turned back to the shelves. Ganondorf smiled, too. It was the first time he had purposely used innuendo with Link, and the man wasn’t bothered by it. Ganondorf noted the small step forward with a glowing feeling in his chest.


	19. Movement Nineteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link shows a bit of his dominant side.

### Movement Nineteen

Link was the one who answered the door when Ganondorf arrived for dinner. There was a beaming smile on his face, and he stood up on tiptoes to press a kiss to his visitor’s cheek in welcome. 

Ganondorf had to chuckle. “It’s barely been two hours since I last saw you,” he pointed out as he walked through the open door. The aroma of beef roast and vegetables lifted his nose into the air. “Mmm, what does Impa have cooking? It smells amazing.” He turned his head back as he asked this, and his good cheer faltered when he saw Link standing in the open doorway. His eyes were fixed on the front yard, and he was as still as a dog on point. “Link? You all right?”

Link started and turned, and for a second Ganondorf saw alarm in his face before he hid it behind a reassuring smile. The door was closed, and Link beckoned Ganondorf to follow him upstairs to his room. He was excited about something; there was almost a spring in his step. His palpable good mood pushed away Ganondorf’s momentary concern.

Gengle was sleeping by the footboard of Link’s bed, but he raised his head and stretched out his front legs with a purr when Ganondorf scratched between his ears. Link had crossed to his desk upon entering the room, and he now turned to Ganondorf with a jewel case clasped between his hands and the beaming smile once more on his face.

“Is that the White Ties’s newest album?” Ganondorf asked. Link’s answer was an excited nod. “I thought that wasn’t releasing for another month.”

Link secured the CD under his armpit in order to sign, _It came in the mail today. They sent me an advance copy, and they signed it._

Ganondorf had noticed the scrawled signatures done in silver marker across the case’s front. “Oh yeah,” he said as if just remembering something. “I may have forwarded your address to them a few weeks ago when Danny asked.” He had to smile at the small blush that came over Link’s face. “So do we have time before dinner to listen to some of it?”

In answer, Link walked to his radio and fed the CD into it. Ganondorf lay back on the bed and crossed his arms behind his head, being careful not to disturb Gengle when he stretched out his legs. He needn’t have bothered. The cat was jolted off of the bed when Link dropped down onto it, making the mattress bounce. As the first track began to fill the room with soft jazz, Link turned his head and regarded Ganondorf. A few still seconds passed between them. Then Link appeared to shrug, and he eased himself down until he was laying beside Ganondorf. He was slow to relax; in particular his cheek took a while to fall against Ganondorf’s shirt. 

Ganondorf waited until he could no longer feel the tension in Link’s back before he shifted his right arm to wrap it around Link’s shoulders. He expected Link to tense up again, so it was a pleasant surprise to feel him relax further with a silent sigh. _If Ghirahim could see this, he’d be furious,_ Ganondorf thought, and a soft chuckle left his throat. Link looked up at him, but Ganondorf shook off the silent question with a smile.

Gengle jumped back onto the bed and made his way up to the small space between the two men where he settled with a purr. Link fell to petting him, and Ganondorf relished the small peace until a chirp from Link’s phone interrupted it. Link pulled the phone out of his back pocket, propped it up on Ganondorf’s chest, and checked the text message that had appeared on the screen.

**Did your sis say yes to tonight?**

“You told Groose you might be going to practice?” Ganondorf guessed, and Link nodded. “But you still haven’t talked to Zelda about it, huh?”

Link shook his head before he sat up to free both hands to text a reply. 

“It’ll be okay,” Ganondorf continued. “I’m here for you — and I can always sneak you out again if I have to.”

Link shot a smile over his shoulder before he finished up his text. With it sent, he pocketed the phone and lay down once more, only this time he remained propped up on his forearms so as to press a kiss to Ganondorf’s lips. It wasn’t the sudden, passionate one like the time in the car; nor was it another quick kiss. This one was languid, and tinged with want.

 _Where did this eagerness come from?_ Ganondorf thought, but he wasn’t going to complain. He returned the kiss in kind; his hand reaching up to caress Link’s cheek. The fingers fell to wandering towards the back of Link’s neck. They pushed up through the soft hair at his nape, under the brim of his beanie.

Link jerked away, and a few awkward seconds passed when he attempted to both push himself onto his knees and straighten his beanie at the same time. Once he had managed both, he sat hunched over with his hands twisting in his lap and a sheepish smile on his face. _Sorry,_ he signed with hands that shook some. _It reminded me of—_

Ganondorf reached out and placed a hand over Link’s, stilling them before he could spell out the name. “You don’t have to apologize,” he said. “I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry. Listen, let’s settle on a signal. If you don’t like something I’m doing, you can pinch me and I’ll stop. Or you can pull away like you just did if you’re really freaking out.”

 _I didn’t freak out,_ Link signed with a hint of annoyance in his face. Ganondorf smiled at it, and after a second Link smiled a little as well. He pulled off his beanie and dropped it onto the bedside table, then took hold of Ganondorf’s hand and guided it to the back of his head. 

Ganondorf had to give Gengle some credit; the cat had the patience of a saint this time around. He remained stubbornly between the two men as a serene loaf of fur and purrs until he was finally forced to move when Link maneuvered himself to straddle Ganondorf. Even then he didn’t go far, settling between Ganondorf’s ankles. 

“Your cat’s a pain in the ass,” Ganondorf grumbled against Link’s jaw, and he felt Link smile in response. It was the last bit of conversation between them for a while. Their hands and lips took over with silent communication, during which Ganondorf detected a streak of dominance behind Link’s actions. It sent a trill of arousal up and down his spine. 

Link wasn’t oblivious to what was happening to Ganondorf. He began to rock his hips in a taunting grind against the other man’s tented pants, and a gasp escaped between Ganondorf’s teeth. _“Fuck._ Link, do you know what you’re doing to me? Don’t you know how many times I’ve gotten myself off thinking of you? And now you’re… you’re… _fuck!”_

Link didn’t need Ganondorf to finish his sentence. He knew exactly what he was doing. He allowed Ganondorf’s hands to take hold of his ass; to pull him closer and harder against his body. It didn’t take much more than that before Ganondorf’s hips were hitching through an orgasm. 

Link sat up while Ganondorf caught his breath and he felt the muscled body twitching beneath him. Now spent, Ganondorf’s erection was going down, but Link saw enough to raise an approving eyebrow. He smirked when Ganondorf caught the look, playfully patted the front of the man’s jeans, and indicated the adjoining bathroom with a jerk of his head. He next made to slide off of the bed, but was stopped when Ganondorf snagged his wrist.

A second of naked fear broke Link’s face before he remembered himself. Ganondorf, too, realized his mistake, and he shifted his grip so that he was holding Link’s fingers instead. “Did you come?” he asked in almost a distracted voice. “Want me to—”

Link hurriedly shook his head and forced a smile when Ganondorf’s brow furrowed in concern. His thin fingers slipped out of the other man’s larger ones. _Ever been on anti-depressants?_ Link signed. When Ganondorf shook his head, Link explained, _They make it hard to get off. Try me again in the morning when my medicine has worn off._

“Guess that means I need an excuse to stay over sometime,” Ganondorf teased. Link smiled at that, slipped off of the bed, and picked up Gengle. While he spoiled the cat with attention, Ganondorf ducked into the bathroom to do his best to clean himself up. The damp spot left behind in his briefs reminded him of Link’s dominance for the rest of the evening. 

Zelda’s voice rang out from downstairs, calling her brother and guest to dinner. Ganondorf took a last few seconds to check his clothes in the bathroom mirror, and he caught sight of a darker spot against his brown neck. Well, there was no hiding that. He joined Link for the walk downstairs, and upon entering the dining room he noticed Zelda’s eyes flick almost at once to the mark. The gaze flicked away just as quickly, but it was impossible to read any opinion Zelda had on her face.

Link was a lively presence at dinner—a rarity, Impa noted with warmth in her words. Perhaps his and Ganondorf’s time upstairs had put him into a good mood, or perhaps he was trying to soften his sister up. Ganondorf thought it was a bit of both. It worked to Link’s favor either way. When he carefully broached the subject of going to practice once more, Zelda only sat in silence for a few seconds and looked between him and Ganondorf.

“If I say no,” she eventually replied, “your boyfriend will only sneak you out again, won’t he?” She sighed before Link could answer. “If it’s important to you… I suppose. But I swear Link, if something happens again this will be the absolute _last_ time. Do you understand me?”

Link answered with a solemn nod, and not a half-hour after dinner he, Zelda, and Ganondorf were on their way to the music hall. In the back of Zelda’s car, Link sat next to Ganondorf with his oboe case held tight in his lap. Ganondorf reached out to take hold of a tense hand, and Link gave him a thankful look.

In the practice room backstage, Ganondorf stuck close by Link while Zelda went ahead into the hall. Link didn’t bother trying to soothe his nerves with the piano; once his oboe was pieced together he walked out to the stage. Only when Link was among his fellow musicians did Ganondorf finally relax. He joined Zelda in the second row of center seats, behind the spread of instrument cases, and stretched out his legs as much as the aisle allowed.

“So,” Zelda murmured, and Ganondorf’s gut twisted at her tone. “Did you have a _satisfying_ visit today?”

Ganondorf was reminded of the spot of dampness under his jeans. He crossed his legs at the ankles and tried to relax. “It was nice, yeah,” he replied in as casual a voice as he could manage. In the corner of his eye he saw Zelda shoot him an amused look. “We made out,” he elaborated. “That’s all.”

“Uh-huh.” Zelda turned forward, now with a full smile on her lips. Onstage, Link was warming up his instrument alongside his fellow woodwinds. “Ghirahim’s late again. He’s always late nowadays, Groose said.”

“No surprise there,” Ganondorf remarked, shrugging. “Wanna take bets on how late he’ll be?”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and he won’t show up at all,” Zelda returned. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

For a while, it appeared Zelda’s wish would hold true. Snippets of songs and scales faded away to restless chatter as the minutes mounted. Soon the stage was filled with the dull roar of dozens of conversations overlapping each other. Laughter spiked here and there. Amidst it all, only Link sat silent. His oboe rested on his lap, and he shot frequent looks towards the hall’s entrance. When he stood up, placing his oboe carefully down on his emptied chair, hardly anyone noticed. It wasn’t until he had stepped onto the conductor’s podium, picked up the baton from the stand there, and tapped it a few times did the musicians finally fall quiet and look to him. 

Expectation fell to confusion, and then amusement. One of the harpists called out, “Link, I didn’t know you were a maestro!” It was in good fun, and the musicians shared a laugh. Link only smiled sheepishly.

“Can Link conduct?” Ganondorf asked Zelda. 

She nodded in confidence. “Yes, and he’s quite good—better than Ghirahim for sure.”

Ganondorf looked back to the podium. It was clear by Link’s hunched posture that he was second-guessing his actions. “Come on, Link,” Ganondorf whispered. “Have courage.”

It was as if Link heard him. The thin body straightened out, and the baton was raised in a nimble hand. On cue, the musicians took up their instruments. They were willing enough to follow Link’s lead, and that gave Link the confidence he needed. He cued his fellow oboist, and the orchestra tuned itself to the note in a swell of sound. Link cut it off with a closed fist and fell to refining an instrument’s pitch here and there. When the tuning note rang out again, it was far more harmonious. 

Next came warm-up practices, and it was during this latter when the entrance door opened, revealing a smug Ghirahim. He faltered upon reaching the stage, having seen who was on the podium, and Zelda noticed his pale hands tighten into fists. Her own hands clenched, and she made to rise. 

Ganondorf stopped her with a gentle hand. “Link will be fine,” he assured her with more confidence than he felt. “Ghirahim can’t hurt him in front of all these people.”

“Did you forget what’s happened the past two times?” Zelda hissed back. 

“Just wait,” Ganondorf pleaded. He had no idea what was about to happen, but he knew if Zelda raised an outcry it would do more harm than good. “Link can handle whatever Ghirahim throws at him.”

With Link focused on the orchestra, and they on him, only Zelda and Ganondorf watched Ghirahim stride along the front of the stage until he was behind the podium. He hurdled the stage lip there, and his hand fell roughly onto Link’s shoulder. “No more games now—” he began.

Link’s reaction was immediate. Ghirahim was far lighter than Ganondorf, so his back hit the floor much quicker. Musicians cried out and got to their feet in surprise, and Link backed away to the edge of the small podium. A quick windmill of his arms stopped him from tipping over. Looking at his frightened face, it was hard to believe he felt anything but guilt. But Ganondorf had seen the brief instant of pure hatred that had come to Link’s face when he recognized Ghirahim. It made him wonder if Link had been waiting for such an opportunity. The thought brought a smile to Ganondorf’s face.

Link didn’t move forward to help Ghirahim. Instead, the violinists offered their assistance. Ghirahim brushed them off and gained his feet with noted pain in his face. “What the hell was that for?” he shouted at Link. Link signed something that Ganondorf didn’t catch, and Ghirahim screeched, “You call that an _accident?”_

Zelda leaped to her feet and planted her hands on the seat in front of her. “Link’s been taking self-defense lessons!” she answered, and the people on stage turned to her. Her face was flushed red, and a smirk played at the corners of her mouth. “You sneaked up behind him and grabbed him. He probably thought you were going to attack him.”

Ghirahim turned his glare onto Link, and it softened into a smile. “Self-defense lessons?” he repeated sweetly. “Whatever for?”

Link didn’t answer. Instead, he held out the conductor’s baton as if offering an olive branch in peace. But Ghirahim sniffed and turned his nose up at the gesture. “Oh no, don’t let me interrupt you. You started, so now you have to finish. Besides, my back is killing me now. I’m going to go sit down.” He made to leave the stage, this time by the left staircase, but paused halfway there to add, “Not that you’ll get far with this lot. They wouldn’t know harmony if it came up and slapped them.”

In question, Link looked across the stage to Groose and the trombonist shrugged. “It’s true,” he admitted. “This program’s kicking our asses. We’re just a mess.”

Link fell to signing questions at Groose, who conferred with the other musicians before answering. During the back and forth, Ghirahim made his way to the second row of seats—much to Zelda’s and Ganondorf’s annoyance. “The mute runt’s got his hands full this time,” Ghirahim remarked to Zelda with a laugh. 

“How’s the back feeling?” Zelda returned.

Ghirahim shot her a glare before his eyes flicked to Ganondorf. They noted the mark on his neck much like Zelda had done. “Having fun with him?” he asked Ganondorf. “It’s nice, right?”

Ganondorf couldn’t stop himself from asking, “What is?”

“Well he can’t talk,” Ghirahim replied. “You don’t have to worry about him squealing like a pig no matter how hard you stick him. Honestly I always found it best to close my eyes and plow him like the little fuckdoll he is.”

Zelda made as if to gain her feet, but the _click-click-click-click_ of the conductor’s baton stopped her. Brass bells flashed under the stage lights, and bows rose to attention. Zelda sank back into her seat, trembling with rage. Ganondorf covered her right hand and stroked her knuckles until she had calmed down. 

Ghirahim hadn’t lied about the orchestra’s problems; a few bars into the first song and even Ganondorf could tell they were struggling. He expected Link to stop them at any moment, offer what advice he could, and try again. Instead, Link worked through each section’s faults within the music. While his left hand worked the baton, his right hand corrected errant players. His dependency on sign language for communication translated perfectly into conducting, and as if he was solving a puzzle he slowly brought the whole orchestra together section by section. By the end of the song, they were in perfect harmony. 

But what truly brought a smile to Ganondorf’s face was Ghirahim’s reaction to it all. Before the first note was played, Ghirahim had his feet propped up and a cocky grin on his lips. By the end, he had withdrawn into a stiff posture of rage. He barely blinked, and his fingers dug into his palms. 

Link continued to lead the orchestra through the rest of the program. At the start of the second song, they came together far quicker and with little help. By the third, it was as if they had never struggled. Zelda frowned at each song, however, and it wasn’t long before Ganondorf learned why. “These are difficult pieces,” she remarked. “Not a program I’d pick for a small city orchestra.”

Ghirahim emerged from his stony silence to explain, “There are to be talent scouts at the first night’s performance.”

Zelda spared him a look and a snorted laugh. “What? You think they’re looking to hire _you?”_ Ghirahim’s poisonous look warned Zelda off of anymore remarks, but she was still chortling when Link lowered his baton at the end of the last piece.

The orchestra was at rest for only a few seconds before Groose whooped. Laughter and a few small cheers followed, and the sections broke into excited talk over their success. 

Ghirahim sighed, gained his feet, and stretched with a faint grimace of pain. “Time to break up the party,” he said with a satisfied smile. He began to approach the stage—this time in full view on Link’s left, Ganondorf noted with amusement. But upon climbing the stairs he was unable to proceed to the podium. The orchestra had gained their feet and gathered around Link, creating an impassable wall among the chairs and music stands. Link’s face was flushed with giddy embarrassment under the shower of praise and gratitude the musicians were offering him. 

Zelda breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks for convincing me to bring him again,” she said to Ganondorf. “Look how happy he is.”

Ganondorf had noticed, but he spared plenty of attention for Ghirahim as well. The man sulked at the edge of the stage, half-hidden by the stage curtains. Draped in shadow he looked like a demon, and he had hateful eyes fixed on Link.


	20. Movement Twenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reunion leaves Ganondorf rattled.

### Movement Twenty

It was post-practice, and Link was still lingering in the music room with his friends. Zelda was nearby, chatting to a few of them in her own group while Link sat with others on the far side of the room. Ganondorf hung by the backdoor, alone. Ghirahim had left in a furious cloud not long after Link had stepped down from the conductor’s podium, although he had passed off his dark looks as a sign of back pain when questioned by some of the musicians. However, Ganondorf didn’t put it past the man to return in order to dig a few more barbs into Link.

_Let him try,_ Ganondorf thought with a smirk. Even from the doorway Ganondorf could see Link was brimming over with newfound confidence. It straightened his shoulders and broadened his smile. His friends had picked up on it, and the group was more at ease with each other than Ganondorf had ever seen before. 

Groose’s voice rose above the surrounding conversations, and Ganondorf raised his head in interest when a question was put to Link. “You wanna join us tonight? A small group of us usually go out after practice for drinks and appetizers at that Italian place down the street.”

Zelda had heard the question too, and she exchanged a look with Ganondorf across the room while they waited for Link to answer. Her eyes showed wariness, but less than Ganondorf expected. Perhaps Link’s show of self-defense had put her more at ease as well. 

“Yeah, ‘course your sis and boyfriend can come!” Groose said next, and Ganondorf’s head whipped around to Link’s group of friends. Link cast him a sheepish smile while Groose waved an enthusiastic hand in invitation. “You guys wanna go out with us?”

Not long later, Ganondorf was seated at a wide, round table with Link on his left, Zelda across from him, and the musicians filling the empty chairs between them. They were waiting for their server to arrive, and in the meanwhile were continuing the jovial air that had started in the music room. The packed restaurant fed into the good cheer, and Ganondorf was finally beginning to relax when a familiar voice spoke up. 

“Hello, my name is Blaine and I’ll be your server this evening. Can I start you all off with some drinks?”

Ganondorf looked up from the menu in his hands and felt a chill creep up his spine. Short black hair, pale skin, thick arms and broad chest… His throat went dry when the cold blue eyes snapped to him in recognition. Of all the times and places…

No one else had yet noticed Ganondorf’s discomfort. Blaine was turning to each person and collecting their drink order; jotting it down on a small notepad in his hand. He started with the young harpist, Medli, on Ganondorf’s right and worked his way around the table counter-clockwise. He was saving Ganondorf for last; savoring the growing panic in his ex’s eyes. Ganondorf refocused on the menu in his hands, but while he could read the words none of them made sense. Out of the corner of his unblinking eyes he saw Link spare a second to shoot him a concerned look before Blaine asked him for his drink order. Link lifted the menu towards Blaine and pointed to something on the drink list. 

Blaine leaned forward to look at the menu with a frown. “What’s wrong, can’t you read?”

Link lowered the menu, and Zelda bristled. But before she could raise an objection Link signed for her to relax. His sister’s lips puckered closed and a frown darkened her brow, but she stayed silent. The musicians cast looks of mixed amusement and concern.

Blaine had noticed the signing and he mimed smacking himself in the head. “Oh! You’re deaf! Sorry, my bad.” He didn’t sound sorry at all. Link didn’t bother to correct him and simply raised the menu again. This time Blaine wrote down his order, adding, “Got it,” in a louder voice while overemphasizing the shapes of the words with his mouth. The cold blue eyes shifted to Link’s right, and the surprise in Blaine’s voice was just as false as his earlier apology. “Ganondorf, is that you? I didn’t notice! Man, what are the chances? How are you?”

Now Link spared more than a glance while the rest of the table perked up in interest. Ganondorf swallowed hard and managed to meet the icy gaze. “I’m fine, Blaine,” he replied around a dry tongue.

“Ganondorf’s an old ex of mine,” Blaine explained to the questioning faces that looked to him. “We were together for a while, but things ended up not working out.”

Zelda’s tone was even when she asked, “A congenial breakup then?”

Blaine’s smile didn’t waver. “Not exactly. But that’s in the past, right?” He looked to Ganondorf. “Water under the bridge and all that?”

Ganondorf cleared his throat. “Sure. I’ll take a—“

“How’s that pig of yours? Drabs, was it?”

Ganondorf’s drink order went out of his head. “Nabs,” he corrected after a long pause. “She’s fine. I’ll… I’ll just take a water.” He snapped his menu closed and made to hand it over, but remembered he hadn’t ordered food yet. He stopped himself mid-action, returned the menu to the table, and stared hard at a point of the wall above one of the violinists’ shoulders. He could feel his face growing warm.

Blaine jotted down the order before leaving the table with a smile and the promise of a prompt return. Conversation resumed at the table, but Ganondorf didn’t take part despite Zelda’s repeated attempts to catch his eye. She had put two and two together, of course, and that meant Link had as well. Ganondorf spared him a look. Link’s hands were entwined together in front of his nose. He looked to be in deep thought. 

Ganondorf stewed in his own silence until Blaine returned with the table’s drinks. He stood behind Ganondorf this time while he doled out the drinks, handing them over Ganondorf’s shoulder; his sleeve brushing Ganondorf’s neck more than once. Ganondorf fought hard not to shrink away.

“Are you ready to order then?” Blaine asked once everyone was served. The musicians all nodded, and Ganondorf was forced to endure a few more minutes of Blaine laughing and talking cheerily over his head. Most of the group had decided on a few appetizers to share. Link choose a salad for himself, playing on Blaine’s ignorance of his condition to the amusement of his friends. When it was Ganondorf’s turn, he rushed out an order for the soup of the day. It was the first thing his eyes had found.

Ganondorf’s throat was as dry as the desert. He raised his water glass for a sip, but stopped when he saw a gathering of bubbles on the surface. It was probably just air bubbles, but it looked too much like spit for his comfort. He lowered the glass and pushed it a few inches further away.

Link had a tall glass of beer—a favorite local brew of his, Ganondorf knew from their previous dates. Seeing Ganondorf push away the water, he offered his own drink in its stead. Ganondorf shook his head with what he hoped was a convincing smile. “I’m not as thirsty as I thought,” he offered in explanation. Link took the drink back, and his lips pulled down in doubt. “I’m not,” Ganondorf insisted.

Link lowered his glass with a thunk that drew more than one look. His hand found Ganondorf’s, and a tug indicated the man should follow him. Ganondorf stood up and cast a sheepish smile at the others as Link led him away from the table. They wove around other diners, heading for the back of the restaurant. When they drew near to the hall that housed the bathrooms, Link paused as a snatch of conversation slipped out from between the nearby kitchen doors. 

“He’s with some deaf twink now—”

Link’s hand tightened around Ganondorf’s, and he resumed his determined walk. The men’s bathroom was empty. Even so, Link pulled Ganondorf into the handicapped stall and slid the door’s bolt home. He took a moment to collect his breath before he fixed a stern look on Ganondorf. 

_I won’t force you to tell me anything,_ Link signed. _But I want to know if you’re okay or not. We can leave if--_

“No,” Ganondorf cut in, and Link’s hands stilled. “I won’t leave. That’s the same as letting Blaine win.” He sighed, ran a hand over his face, and leaned against the wall. “He’s just trying to scare me, or embarrass me in front of all of you. I’m not going to let it get to me. That’s how he controlled our relationship. I’m not going to let him control my life the same way. Besides…” A small smile managed to crack Ganondorf’s worried face. “You managed to put Ghirahim in his place today. The least I can do is make it through a bite to eat.”

_Are you sure?_ Link asked, and Ganondorf nodded. _Okay. If you change your mind, let me know._

“I will,” Ganondorf promised. “Can we get out of the bathroom now? Your sister probably thinks we’re up to no good.”

Link raised a flirty eyebrow. _I don’t mind proving her right,_ he signed.

Ganondorf laughed. “Maybe we’ll save that for dessert,” he teased. Link feigned disappointment, and Ganondorf kissed his pouting lips before opening the stall door. He led the way out of the bathroom, but once again the two men stopped near the kitchen door when Blaine’s voice petered out. Ganondorf didn’t bother to listen. “Just let it go, Link,” he urged before he resumed walking. He could see the table from here, and Zelda had spotted him. Ganondorf hurried to cross the restaurant with many of an _Excuse me_ as he shifted his large frame around chairs and servers.

Relief brightened Zelda’s face when Ganondorf sat down. “I thought you had left,” she called across the table. Her relief flickered. “Where’s Link?”

“Uh…” Ganondorf cast an eye around, but Link wasn’t in sight. “Maybe he doubled back to use the bathroom.”

“You’re not sure?” Zelda pressed in a tight voice that drew more than one look from her friends. 

“He’s fine,” Ganondorf rushed out. “This isn’t—I mean, it’s not like—“ He was saved from having to come up with an answer when he spied Link emerging from behind a distant server. “See, there he is. He’s fine, just like I said.”

Link slipped into his seat seconds later and cast a reassuring smile at his sister. Zelda relaxed and fell back into conversation with Groose, who sat nearby, and Ganondorf sighed. “She nearly skewered me,” he muttered to Link.

When the food arrived, Ganondorf had his nerves more or less under control. Most of it was thanks to Link, who held his hand under the table and stroked his knuckles in a calming manner. The hand pulled away once all the food was on the table, and he signed something to Blaine.

“I’m… sorry?” Blaine frowned in annoyance and looked to the others for help. “I don’t know what he’s saying.”

Link repeated the signs once he had everyone’s attention, and Groose translated, “He says he wants to speak to the manager, and asks that you bring her to the table.”

Ganondorf’s stomach iced over. “Link—“ he began in a terse voice, only to be cut off by a raised hand. 

Blaine flashed his teeth in a smile. “Something the matter?” he asked Link in a slow, loud voice. 

Link repeated his request, and Groose translated it. Blaine looked unnerved by now, but also angry. Ganondorf recognized the look, and he once again tried to warn Link in a low voice. Link gave a curt shake of his head to silence him.

Blaine had already recovered, and in a voice dripping with fake sincerity he explained, “I’m sorry, but the manager isn’t here tonight. If you’d like, I can take your message and pass it along—“

“Excuse me,” Zelda cut in, and all eyes turned to her. “I’m sorry, I don’t usually throw around my family’s name but my brother and I—” She indicated Link with a jut of her chin, “are the Hyrules, and your manager Mrs. Aliberti is a good friend of ours. In fact, she was just at our last dinner party where she graciously donated a generous portion of this very restaurant’s profits to the hospital. She also told me of her availability when I suggested we go out for coffee sometime, so I know tonight is one of her work nights. Now will you please ask her to come to the table like my brother asked?”

People were beginning to stare. Their own table had long since quieted, and a growing number of eyes were turning to watch Blaine’s mounting unease. Faced with the stares and the unflinching Zelda, Blaine had no choice but to turn and stalk away to the kitchen. Mutters and curious looks followed him. 

Ganondorf whistled low. “Now I know why Link has you down as ‘Princess’ in his phone,” he said to Zelda. She blinked in surprise and laughed, and Ganondorf chuckled himself as he raised his spoon. But it had barely dipped into his soup before Link put out a hand to stop him. He offered no explanation save for a grave shake of his head. His intense expression was more than enough to deter Ganondorf from eating.

It was a tense minute at the table. Link’s friends tried to pry information out of him, but he only took out his phone and fixed his attention on it instead. Not long after, a joyful cry of, “Zelda!” cut over the restaurant chatter. Zelda raised her head and smiled when she saw a tall, dark-haired woman weaving her way to the table. Blaine followed close behind her with a glower barely contained on his face.

“Celeste!” Zelda made to stand, but the manager stopped her and instead bent over to hug her in her seat. 

“You didn’t tell me you were coming!” Celeste gently chided. “I would have put a better table aside for you and your friends.”

“This is fine,” Zelda rushed to assure her. “I think my brother might have a problem, though.”

“Oh?” Celeste straightened up and turned her attention to Link. “Something wrong?”

In answer, Link placed his phone down on the table. Ganondorf saw he had a media file on the screen. A press of the play button started an audio recording. Link turned up the phone’s volume, and Blaine’s recorded voice broke the gathered quiet. 

_“...he knows how lucky he is. If he had to find someone to fuck, at least he found someone who can’t hear him whining like the bitch he is all the time.” A second, unidentified voice laughed in response, and Blaine picked up, “I gotta hand it to him, though. He found himself a cute piece of ass. And I bet those hands aren’t just good for sign language.”_

Celeste had a hand at her chest. “Blaine, what is this? Is that you I’m hearing?”

Blaine didn’t answer. His face had paled save for two high red smears on his cheeks. He had a full glare fixed on Link. Link returned only an impassive look while the recording continued.

The clattering of dishes cut out the next few words before Blaine’s voice resumed, _“I don’t think this soup is done, Mark. It’s missing the secret ingredient.”_

_“The secret—Oh, dude, that’s fucking nasty!”_ The man identified as Mark sounded disgusted, but there was laughter in his voice. Beneath it was the distinct sound of splashing. _“Put that thing away before someone sees it.”_

_“I’ve got nothing to hide,”_ Blaine answered, laughing as well. The splashing sound petered out. _“There. Nothing like a little piss to spice things up. He’s used to it after all.”_

_“Dude, seriously?”_

_“Hell yeah. Saved me a shitload on the water bill.”_

The men’s joint laughter was unnaturally cut off. The recording was over, and those who had heard it—most of the restaurant, judging by the many looks of disgust—were staring at Blaine. Only Ganondorf had his eyes down. His body shook in its seat—not in fear, but in anger. He hadn’t wanted to harm someone so badly since he had seen Ghirahim hit Link. It was taking all of his hard-earned self-control to remain seated.

Celeste turned to Blaine, towering over him. “Get out of my restaurant,” she ordered in a dangerous voice. “You’re fired, and you’ll be lucky to ever get a job in this city again.”

Blaine’s lips peeled back in a snarl. “The little shit’s a liar!” he spat out while everyone looked on in hushed silence. 

“You’re telling me this recording is fake?” Celeste pressed, and now her voice rose a notch in volume. “Shall I drag Mark in here to listen to it? He’ll be fired as well, but I can perhaps put a good word in for him at the cannery if he’s willing to back up Link’s evidence—not that I need him to.”

“He lied about being deaf!” Blaine was almost screaming now. Spit flew from his lips as he continued, “If I knew he could hear me—”

Link signed something, catching Celeste’s attention. Groose translated, unprompted, “He said, ‘I never told you I was deaf.’”

Zelda snorted a laugh, and Blaine turned to growl at her. “You bitch—”

“Enough!” Celeste roared. “Get out! Get out, and take Mark with you or I’ll call the police!” Blaine didn’t move, and Celeste added, _“Now!”_ It was enough to make nearby patrons flinch. 

Ganondorf couldn’t tell if this was a dream come true, or a living nightmare. He watched the last of the color drain from Blaine’s face before the man spun on his heel and stormed towards the kitchen—or so it seemed at first. He was only a few steps away when he turned without warning and made for Link. He wove around the tables with experienced speed, his fist raised and a furious yell in his throat. 

Link couldn’t react in time, but Ganondorf had already seen the signs of rising violence in his ex. He got between Link and Blaine and took the punch to his face. What followed was a short scuffle, pockmarked by Blaine’s screamed curses, until Ganondorf and Groose forced him face-down on the table.

Zelda held Blaine’s furious gaze as she dialed a number stored in her phone. Her voice was bright when she greeted, “Chief Viscen! It’s me, Zelda. Yes, it’s good to speak to you, too. Oh, I’m fine. No worries except… Well, there’s a small situation here at Celeste’s restaurant...”

#

It was certainly their oddest night out so far, Ganondorf reflected on the ride back to the Hyrule mansion. “Dinner and a show,” Groose had called it, laughing, as he and the others watched Blaine be guided into the back of a police car. Statements were taken, although no one was keen on bothering to press charges. As Celeste had pointed out any future Blaine had as an employee in the city was over, and if he tried to make trouble later they had plenty of evidence to support a case against him in court.

Ganondorf was simply glad it was over. At the end of it all Celeste had comped their food and drinks, and had sent everyone home with a free dessert. No amount of lava cake could stop the sting around his eye, however, or bury the shame that had sprung in him in the wake of Blaine’s recorded comments. He couldn’t meet Link’s eyes during the car ride. He was afraid of the unspoken opinion he would see in them. Disgust? Mockery? Contempt? 

Once parked in the garage, Zelda got out of her car and turned an expectant look towards Link through the passenger window. Neither he nor Ganondorf had left the vehicle. Link waved her off, and with a shrug Zelda walked into the house. Silence pressed in on the two men, compounded by the car’s confines. The click of Link’s disengaged seat belt preceded his shift to Ganondorf’s side of the car. A pair of thin, pale hands fell against Ganondorf’s cheeks, and Link gently forced his head up. 

There was only love and compassion in Link’s eyes. The sincerity of the emotions surprised Ganondorf, and he found himself crying moments later. All of the stress, fear, and shame that had built up in him over the past couple of hours bled out through his tears. Link guided Ganondorf’s head down to his shoulder and stroked his back until the man had calmed down. He kissed away the last of the tears.

Ganondorf drew in a deep, shuddering breath. He felt lighter now that he was liberated of his pent-up feelings. He even managed a smile when he thanked Link. “You were a real hero tonight,” he added.

Link shook his head and raised a gentle hand to the growing bruise under Ganondorf’s left eye. _You too,_ he signed, and Ganondorf shrugged a shoulder. _Let me drive you home._

“I’m fine,” Ganondorf tried to say, but the insistence in Link’s face broke him down quick enough. “All right, fine. Whose car are we taking?”

They decided on Link’s, and while he ducked into the house for his keys Ganondorf moved from one vehicle to the other. Link returned a few minutes later with keys in-hand and his bag knocking against his hip in that attractive way Ganondorf loved. The bag was tossed into the backseat before Link slipped into the driver’s seat.

On the way home, Ganondorf felt compelled to explain the story behind Blaine’s recorded remarks. He began by explaining how Blaine got off on abusing his lovers, but he was stopped by Link’s raised palm. At a stop light, Link had a chance to turn and sign, _It doesn’t matter. What he did doesn’t define you. You can’t change what he did, but you can decide how to live after it. Will you let the past consume you, or will you create a better future for yourself?_

The words were familiar to Ganondorf, and he laughed a little. “I think you’ve taken a few pages out of Dr. Malon’s psychology book,” he teased, and Link smiled. The green light filled the car, and they continued driving. Link was a cautious driver, Ganondorf observed. He frequently checked his mirrors. “You remember where I live now, right?” Ganondorf asked a few minutes later when he noticed Link taking odd turns. 

Link smacked himself lightly against the forehead, and Ganondorf chuckled. “It’s all right,” he said. “You were only there once to help me move in, after all. Hey, you should see what my limited domestic skills have done to the place. I mean…” His cheeks warmed when Link raised an eyebrow. “Only if you want to come in. You don’t have to. You can just drop me off in the parking lot.” He stopped before he fell to rambling.

The apartment complex came into view after a few more turns, and Link pulled into a well-lit parking spot by the entrance. Ganondorf lived on the third floor; his living room window faced the lot and he could see the shadow of the potted cactus Zelda had gotten him as an apartment-warming gift. It was an ordinary sight, but one that filled Ganondorf with calm after his long night.

Link grabbed his bag from the backseat and locked the car before he joined Ganondorf on the stroll into the building. They took the lobby elevator to the third floor and walked the quiet hall to Ganondorf’s apartment. The muffled sounds of television shows found their way through the other residents’ closed doors, but it was nothing compared to the thin walls of Ganondorf’s old place. He found the sounds comforting, in fact. He could pretend it was another ordinary night; that the incident with Blaine hadn’t happened.

But minutes later in the bathroom, studying his blackening eye while Link roamed the apartment, Ganondorf felt his earlier shame and fear rise up once again like bile in his throat. He choked it back. He would not cry in front of Link again. He had to be stronger than this. Ganondorf gritted his teeth against the tears that wanted to escape him. The hunt for pain medicine in the bathroom cabinet distracted him for a moment. He swallowed a pill with a swig of water from the tap, then splashed more water on his face—being mindful of the tender skin around his eye. He was toweling his face off when a few chords of music found his ears. 

Link had found the oud, which Ganondorf had set up on a stand in a corner of his bedroom—a place of honor, of sorts. The nimble fingers were already plucking out a tune when Ganondorf walked into the room. Link was seated on the far side of the bed, his back to the door. When he heard Ganondorf’s heavy steps he stopped playing and tossed an apologetic look over his shoulder. 

“You don’t have to stop,” Ganondorf rushed to say, but Link was already rising to return the instrument to its stand. His next steps took him to Ganondorf, whom he studied with a critical gaze. “It’s just a black eye,” Ganondorf assured him. “I’ve had plenty in my day, and anyway it doesn’t look as bad as yours did.” Ganondorf found himself laughing the next moment. “Wow, this is just as disastrous as our first date—except this time it’s me who’s hurt while you get to be the hero.”

Link reached up and stroked gently outside the growing bruise around Ganondorf’s eye. _You were heroic tonight, too,_ he repeated when his inspection was done. 

Ganondorf disagreed with a shake of his head. “No, I was pathetic.” The fear was threatening to rise up again. Ganondorf sucked in a shuddering breath. “Listen, I want to thank you for what you did tonight. You were braver than I ever was when I was stuck in that poisonous relationship with Blaine, and that was on top of you standing up to Ghirahim tonight. It meant a lot to me, what you did, and I just wish… I just wish I deserved it. _Shit.”_ The tears were falling once more. Ganondorf wiped them away with an angry hand. “I honestly don’t know why you stick around with me. I’ve failed to protect you more often than not. I’ve even laid a hand on you before. I’m no better than our exes.”

Ganondorf knew his shame and fear were speaking these words, but at the same time he knew them to be true. Someone like Link deserved better than the broken mess before him. 

Link waited until Ganondorf had calmed down enough to focus on him. His hands were steady when he signed, _Every relationship has its ups and downs. The perfect relationship doesn’t exist. It’s a myth created by movies and romance books. If you acted like a perfect boyfriend I would be more worried about what you’re hiding. Instead I’ve seen you at your worst, and I still want to be with you. You want to know why?_

“Is it because I lift the heavy boxes?” Ganondorf asked in a glum attempt at humor.

Link smiled and shook his head. _It’s because I love you._

Ganondorf has misinterpreted Link’s signing, surely. “What was that?”

_You heard me,_ Link signed with an amused look. The amusement faltered when Ganondorf continued to stare at him. _I’m sorry,_ Link hastened to sign. _Do you want me to go?_

“No!” Ganondorf took hold of Link’s hands. “No,” he repeated, softer, and he kissed Link’s fingertips. “Please stay as long as you like.”

_I’ll stay all night if you want,_ Link signed after freeing his hands. 

“I’d like that,” Ganondorf whispered. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.” Link agreed to the sentiment with a nod. “Let me get out of these clothes. What about you? Do you need something to wear to bed?”

Link cast a significant look at the bag he had dropped to the floor by Ganondorf’s bed, and the larger man laughed when the realization hit him. “You weren’t even subtle about it, and it still went over my head. I guess that says a lot about my scattered state of mind right now.”

_You just need a good night’s rest,_ Link pointed out. _Get changed. I’m not going anywhere._ He picked up his bag and left the room, heading for the bathroom. Ganondorf listened to the sound of the toilet and sink running while he changed into more comfortable clothes and slipped into bed. His exhaustion hit him like a brick wall, and his eyes began to close as soon as his cheek fell against the pillow. Yet he was conscious enough to notice Link’s return. He drew close to the slighter man, spooning him, and kissed the back of his neck before falling asleep.


End file.
